#It's the thing that he and Golf had in common

[wanderingrain]

Blogging through Till the World Ends Ep 9

Boys why are we just standing around? if I saw a bloody knife sticking out of the steering wheel of my car I would just quietly close the door and leave. Feels too much like an ambush for me.

"It's the same knife they tried to kill me with." How would you know?? It's literally just a kitchen knife. You know, the kind that lives in the kitchen. And once again HOW WOULD THEY HAVE FOUND YOU?? AND WHY ARE YOU JUST STANDING AROUND??

"ThE gUn Is GoNe." No duh!! I told you!!

"Art do they know where your house is?" Well now they do because you said that thanks P'Gus. If we meet Art's brother only to have him die I swear...

Lol why is P'Gus driving again after they made a whole point of telling us he'd driven all night and then he didn't even take a nap like he was supposed to. Oh ok now Golf is driving.

Oh geez the moon is so big and scary. That last episode really put that fear deep into my heart didn't it.

Ohhh I like the contrast between the sun and the moon.

P'Gus breaking down is honestly how I feel they would all have been acting this whole time if this was real life. Lol. But where's the fun in that?

This scene is sad and cute but I can't help but ask do we really have time for this? Lol

Great flashback. I hope we're not all going to end up dying on this mountain.

Golf ruining the moment by not returning the secret handshake. What was that Golf?

Not the nail clippers

Once again though, is this really the time? If you don't get to the bunker on time you won't ever be able to have sex again so this seems a little strange just saying.

Ya'll are really gonna get to the bunker at the very last minute aren't you. You're not even a little bit concerned that you're about to have only one more day left? I would've immediately started the car and torn out of there if I woke up and it was suddenly night time and I realized I'd wasted so much time.

Aww Art's the one holding Golf. That's so cute and sweet.

Lol such a sleepy boi

P'Gus is going to die. He's not planning on staying at the bunker with them.

If they think the gang is following them WHY are they shocked to discover evidence that the gang is following them?? "That's not our car." No duh Art!

THERE'S JUS A RANDOM CROWBAR ON THE WINDOW???

THERE'S TWO OF THEM!!!

Well those don't sound suspiciously like last words at all. "Take care of each other."

I love how they haven't given Art a weapon btw

You just told Art to be quiet why are you yelling now? You just lost whatever element of surprise you might've had.

IS THAT A THIRD CROWBAR??? Art does your family make them or something?? What's going on?? (The crack is back and it's crackier than ever.

THEY ARE NOT-!!!

How are the cuddles so cute though? Am I just too soft for cuddles?

Seriously how can these two be so soft? Guys I think this is the softest moment in the show and these guys have killed and eaten people.

Not the nail clippers coming in clutch. I guess that's why we had to have them in that scene earlier. This show is so great.

Babes why are you making so much noise? Untie them.

If Golf does anything to get these boys angry again now that they've decided they're leaving I'm going to be very angry. Prediction: Only Art and Golf make it out of this house alive.

WHY ARE YOU HIDING GOLF?? WHY??

Also why are you going back in when you just decided to be done with this whole thing??

Is Art gonna kill LONG??

Nevermind of course the "bottom" can't handle a gun, what was I thinking?/s

I'm still enjoying this show but I'm worried what my actual response will be if they all actually do die in the end. That's why I wasn't letting myself get too attached to the characters. But Man I really hate that trope where everything is about to be alright and then the characters mess it up for themselves. There was a moment where our gang boys decided, you know what? Everyone lives today. And that's great. I like stuff like that. But now I'm pretty positive they're both going to die.

Prediction: Golf kills P'Joke. Long kills P'Gus. Long can't live without P'Joke and unalives himself. Do Art and Golf make it to the bunker? Does it really matter if they do or not? I've been leaning towards the idea (for a few episodes now) that they probably will choose to die instead of staying in the bunker. Either they'll go to one and they'll hate it like that Uncle did so they'll leave, or they just won't make it.

I just hope the ending feels satisfying but I'm not really sure if they'll be able to pull it off for me personally. Especially if my predictions come true and Golf and Art are the only two who escape the house alive.

Well, on to the last episode.

[rafedaddy01]

Could I request a longer fic?

Rafe moving in next door to you with his family.

Y/n inviting him and his wife over for dinner with you and your husband.

Y/n following him into the bathroom and f ing him in there ,while they have to be quiet and quick

Welcome to the Neighborhood

Pt1 || Pt2

-

You were casually unloading groceries from your trunk when you saw the U-Haul truck across the street. It’s been a while since there’s been new neighbors and the kind hearted person you were just had to welcome them properly.

You finished bringing your groceries in and got to work on a pie, blueberry was your speciality. You knew that your new neighbors would love it, they always do.

You raised your fist and knocked three times and waited patiently with a smile on your face as you held up your dessert.

The door opened and you came face to face with the most handsome man you’ve ever seen. His smile was intoxicating, his eyes pulled you in like a siren, you got so lost in his beauty you forgot what you were there for.

You cleared your throat and shook certain images out of your mind before presenting your pie and smiling wider, “welcome to the neighborhood! I’m y/n, me and my husband live just across the street. I noticed you guys were moving in so I thought I’d give you a warm welcome” you handed the man your dessert and he warmly excepted it, his fingers brushing onto yours a little too long.

“Thank you, I’m rafe and this is my wife Olivia.” Rafe introduced himself before opening the door a little wider and down the hall came a beautiful woman. “Howdy, so nice of you to say hi” she beamed at you as she came and stood next to her husband.

“Of course. Well you guys have a great rest of your day, and enjoy the pie” you quickly said your goodbyes and rushed back over to your house. The way rafe was eyeing you made you feel things you’ve never felt with your own husband before. You needed to get away from him, but at the same time your body and mind craved to be anywhere near him.

The next day there’s a knock on your door. You open it to find Olivia standing with your dish sparkling clean. “Good morning! Just wanted to return your dish, thank you again for the delicious pie. It was splendid, you must give me the recipe” she flashed you her white as snow, perfectly straight teeth as she flipped her hair off her shoulder and laughed. You couldn’t help but feel jealous of her, but you didn’t even know why. You were happily married.

“I’m glad you like it. Would you like to come in?” You opened the door wider and she followed you inside.

“Please make yourself comfortable, I’ll make us something to drink” she sat on the island stool as you started making up some lemonade.

The two of talked for hours and you actually found out you have a lot more in common than you thought. Olivia was actually a nice person and you liked her. “Would you and rafe want to come over for dinner tonight? I’m making lasagna” you extended an invite and she happily accepted.

The four of you sat in your dining room, eating, talking and drinking wine. It was fun and you got to know Olivia and Rafe better. They moved down to Texas from North Carolina because of some sort of family business rafe was in and someone needed to manage the company in a different state. Olivia was an interior designer and she had her own online business. They seemed like a normal, decent couple, and your husband seemed to get along with rafe great. They talked about business, golf and whiskey. Those were three things your husband couldn’t shut up about.

As you listened in on Olivia telling some story about one of her clients you felt someone’s foot trailing up and down your leg, you knew it wasn’t your husband because he was sitting on your right side but the foot was on your left side. You looked up at rafe and he was acting as if nothing was going on. As if he wasn’t playing footsie with you while his wife and your husband were in the same room.

His foot went higher and higher, making it harder for you to focus. You wanted to push his leg away and jump from the table and ask him what the hell he’s thinking. But you found yourself sitting quietly and imaging things that you shouldn’t.

“Excuse me, I’m gonna go to the restroom” Rafe said as he pulled back from the table and disappeared down the hall.

“I should probably check on dessert, I’ll be right back” you pecked your husbands cheek before rushing towards the kitchen, only to be pulled into the hallways bathroom.

“What the hell!” You gasped as quietly as you could, “ I knew you’d follow me” he closed the gap between you two, lips connecting and tongues clashing. Rafe picked you up and sat you down on the counter as he stepped between your legs.

Truthfully you knew this was wrong and you should stop it, but your hands had a mind of their own as they reached down and started undoing his jeans. “If we’re gonna do this it has to be quick and quiet” you pulled down his jeans and boxers and lifted your dress before pushing your panties to the side and sliding onto his cock.

“Oh fuck-“ you threw your head back but before you could moan Rafes palm covered your mouth as his eyes seared into yours and his hips started moving. “Shhh, i know, fuck I know. It feels soo good. But we have to be quiet” he thrusted faster as your fingers wrapped around his neck and held on for stability.

“T-touch me, please” you whimper over his hand and rafe nodded before bringing his fingers down to your clit, applying pressure and working in circles as your juices leaked around his cock.

“Holy shit. You’re squeezing me so tight, I’m gonna-“ before rafe could finish his sentence you felt the warmth inside your belly and it triggered your own release as you bit down on your lip and tried to conceal your moans. This was the fastest you’ve ever came, usually your husband would have to do a bunch of foreplay to get you ready but all rafe had to do was look at you and you were drenched.

“Now that’s a proper welcome” Rafe grinned as he pulled out and cleaned himself up.

Taglist

@f4ll-for-you @rafeysworldim19 @baby19sthings @sevenwivesofrafecameron @rxfecameronsslut @findapenny @r1vrsefx @spencerreidsrealgf @rafescokenostril @thievin-stealing @rafemotherfuckingcameron @dilvcv @starkeysheart @wearemadeofstardust0 @theoraekenslover

[withjaejae]

Hole-in-one | JJK

A day of golf goes better than expected despite being ditched by your bestfriend and spending the afternoon with your so-called rival.

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

High society of sorts, Richie Rich type of wealth.

Warnings: Oral (m/f), sexual jokes, dig bick Jk, playful banter, unprotected sex, squirting, throat fucking, sexual tension, one-shot. (Did I miss something?)

A/N: I wanted to write more but I thought it ended ok. My knowledge on golf is based on Wii which I stopped playing a long time ago. So bear with me.

I have no way to know how long but enjoy.

++++++

You groan in frustration as you read Namjoon's text saying he left with the girl he met at the club lobby.

It was a nice sunny afternoon, perfect for golf. At least Namjoon was gonna fill holes either way and that irks you the most. He's had women, left and right, while you struggled with your types.

All you want was a man who shared the same things you like. Golf was your thing, Namjoon came for the women who thought they were stealing him from you. When in fact, Namjoon was your cousin/best friend.

"Alone today?" The attendant, Jean, always met you with a smile and your golf clubs.

"Yeah, unfortunately my cousin can't last a second without a mouth around his dick." Her face flushed a deep crimson. "No offense." Yup, she and Namjoon did it too.

"None taken, I'm over it." She shrugs and grabs the golf kart key from the shelf. "Shall we?"

"I think I wanna go solo today, Jean. Thanks." You take the key from her and she nods. She knows better than to say no to you.

Your custom lavender colored Kart waited for you, your initials in mettalic purple on the front. It was parked next to several other custom karts.

You arrived at your first course. A man was already standing there, setting up his own stuff. No caddie in sight, you notice his arms and very much know who he is. You look at the deep purple colored kart next to yours.

"No girls to fuck on this fine afternoon, Jeon?" You smirk as you step out of your kart.

He stands up straight at the sound of your voice, he doesn't need to turn around to know its you.

"I wondered why the birds stopped singing." He continues to set up his tee. "No dicks to suck?" He quips.

"I don't fuck on the weekends." You're unfazed having been bantering like this for about a year now.

"Oh look, we do have things in common." He calls 'fore' before swinging his club.

You both watched as the ball lands near the hole. Out of respect you clap your hands, that was a good swing.

"Namjoon?" He finally turns to look at you, his eyes rake over your legs, your skirt is too short for golfing and your top hugged you so well he could outline your tits.

"Found a poor soul in the lobby before he could even touch some grass." You snort and pull out your own driver and ball.

He steps back, clearly you both could use the company even if it meant mean retorts.

You take position, he doesn't even try to be subtle about oggling at your ass.

You and Jungkook are neighbors but you studied abroad for middle school and highschool. Why you chose to come home for college, you're not sure. But you and Jungkook are in senior year now and you have common friend groups but not really that close until...

A year ago, you finally joined your parents to the Jeon's hunting weekend, it was an annual thing. It was going smoothly for the most part but when you and Jungkook shot the same boar at the same time, that's when the mean comments started. It was a rivalry of sorts, one trying to become better than the other.

Contrary to what he said earlier, you have too many things in common being raised in high society.

You see each other all the time at sport events and even charities but nothing beyond those events.

To be here with him, without anyone else is a first. You both won't admit that you've been crushing on each other but your society knows there's tension between you two.

"Nice ass." He comments just as you swing. Your ball landing a bit far from the hole.

"You did that on purpose." You frown at him, he was already smirking with that cute bunny looking face, his nose scrunched up.

"I did. Now look, looks like you need two more strokes to make it." He snorts as he walks towards his kart and you groan as you follow him.

"Title of your sex tape." You comment under your breath, he laughs.

You both drive down the path towards the hole.

You study the distance of your ball to the hole and his distance. You can make it in one, if you're lucky.

He lines himself up.

"Nice ass." You say back as he swings and it goes right in. You roll your eyes.

"Two strokes." He winks and moves to stand next to you. Shoulders touching, suddenly it feels warmer.

You stop to feel the wind, you work on your angle and with one stroke, it goes in too.

"Impressive." He claps his hands too and you made a little curtsy. "Never thought you'd be this good at golf."

"You see me here all the time. Doesn't that make sense?" You take both balls from the hole.

Instead of putting the ball in his palm, you make a bold move of standing in front of him while slipping both in his pockets.

"There, now you have a pair of balls." You look up at him, for a second his eyes darkened but the smirk was back.

He leans down, lips nearly touching. "YN, if you wanted to touch my balls, all you need to do is ask."

Your cheeks feel hot and it doesn't go unnoticed by Jungkook. But you never back down.

"I thought you didn't have any." You lean closer, one more move and your lips would be touching.

"I can show you right now." Your face moves back. "All talk and no walk, a shame." He stands up straight. "But if you want it so badly. When I do a hole in one, you be my caddie. And if you do a hole in one, I'll fuck your brains out."

You snort but can't help feel the rush of wetness from between your folds.

"You say that like fucking you is a prize." You step away from him. "The only hole you'll get to fill today are on the course. But..." You flip your hair to the side, a mischievous glint in your eye. "If you wanted to, all you have to do is ask."

"Oh? Then, YN, can I fuck your brains out?" Oh, he's bold. You roll your eyes and walk back to your Kart.

He follows you, with a grin plastered on his face.

"Are you scared you might actually like it?" You scoff and look at him. Your heartrate suddenly spiking.

"I'm afraid I might get disappointed." You start to feel hot. Its only been one course, if you go back now. Jean will definitely say something.

"Oh baby, I could live up to your gold standard. I am gold standard." He's cocky and arrogant but god it would be a lie to say you're not turned on.

"See you at the next course, Jeon." Your kart starts backing up and he rushes to follow you again.

You both arrive at the same time, this time at a more difficult course.

"The next course we should do is intercourse." He hasn't even reached you yet and he's already teasing.

"Shut up before someone hears you." You forcefully stick your tee on the ground.

"Why? Its not like we're both kids, plus nobody is around." He looks around, the next group of golfers are a hectare away.

You sigh and face him again. He loves riling you up, it was just playful banter before and now that you've entered this kind of teasing, he loves your reactions.

"Okay." You declare. His grin ceasing a bit, his eyebrows raised. "I'll tee first, if I do a hole in one, you get on your knees and..."

"Beg for your forgiveness? Princess I don't beg." He smirks again, he licks his lip piercing.

You step even closer, your tits touching his chest and he loves the feeling. "No, I want the golden boy to get on his knees and show me what that mouth can do other than tease." His throat runs dry.

Shit. "Is that supposed to be a punishment? You'd probably beg for more once I'm done." He kicks his leg, hopefully to free some space in his pants for his growing boner.

You hum. "Another thing we have in common, I don't beg." Lie, you always beg in bed.

"Deal. But if I make a hole in one, you're the one getting on your knees." He's confident. Given your 'punishments' aren't really punishments. He'd love to eat you out, but he won't tell you that.

But you know this course, you've hit holes in ones in this. Yout heart is beating loudly almost clouding your senses. Jungkook has a permanent teasing smirk on his face you'd like to kiss off.

Out of all the places you could have teased each other into fucking, you didn't expect it to be at the golf course.

"Don't worry princess, I'll be gentle... At first." He chuckles.

You take a deep breath and swing. You both watched the ball as it flies over the field. You bit your lip at it lands an inch away and it falls right in. Your hands fly in the air cheering for yourself.

"Are you this excited to have me eat you?" He was standing directly behind you, his warmth and scent engulfing you. "My turn."

You step away and wink at him. He takes a deep breath and swings. You both watch as it takes the same speed and the same arch and his ball lands the exact same way yours did. A hole in one for the both of you.

He turns to you with a satisfied grin.

"I hope your throat is ready for me princess." Your nerves are going haywire at his voice. Did it get lower?

You quietly head to your kart, you nod to the side, gesturing him to follow you and you drive away.

The thing with this club house is, both your parents are partial owners, hence you have access to the many rooms the place offers if you asked.

Lucky for you, you already planned on staying the night since it was a free weekend.

You barely parked properly, tossing the key to the valet. You meet Jean and you ask for a room key, she eyes you then behind you, sure enough Jeon Jungkook was standing there, watching your ass again.

She hands you the key card. No more words exchanged between you, sexual tension builds in its wake.

You head to the elevator and head to the third floor. The suites.

Your breathing is starting to get ragged as you feel the fragile tension inside the elevator. Jungkoom just stood there, eyes forward, hands in his pockets. He refrains from moving since this place had security camers and your neighborhood would have a field day if you fucked in the club elevators.

But all he can hear is his heartbeat, all he can smell is you, and all he can feel is the tightness in his pants.

He follows you down the hall, and you swipe the key card. The moment the two of you cross the threshold and the door securely locked. You turn to face him and his hands are already on you, pulling your face into feverish kiss. You moan into the kiss as he lifts you up, your legs wrap around his torso.

He takes you to the couch. He grins into the kiss.

"What?" You pull away, you bite your lip to stop yourself from smiling.

"I was thinking who should get their prize first." His hand was on your cheek, thumb caressing your lower lip. You take it into your mouth and suck on it. "fuck." He mumbles and his breath gets caught in his throat.

"Since I'm being generous." You get off him and get on your knees in front of him. "Wouldn't want to keep my goldben boy waiting." The way you called him yours made his heart skip a beat.

It was a joint effort to take his pants off. What he didn't expect was for you to take your top off, a sexy lace bra underneath it. Usually, you wear a sports bra but you didn't feel like it today. Now you know why.

He's huge. Your wetness growing in your panties. Eager to have him, you take a hold of his base and rub his dick over your face.

You moan and finally take him into your mouth. He hisses and moans.

His fingers weave through your hair. The way you look up at him as you take him deeper almost made him cum. Fuck, for years you basically ignored each other despite everyone teasing you about ending up together since your parents were basically best friends, had you known that his dick would fit perfectly in your mouth.

You moan around him, the vibrations sending Jungkook into pure bliss.

"Keep going." His head was thrown back as he moans loudly. "So fucking needy." You took him deeper to show him how needy you can become.

He takes your hands and places them on his thigh. "Double tap if you can't take it." You nod knowing what he'd do next. He did say he'd be gentle at first.

He weaves both hands into your hair this time and fucked your throat. Your tears and drool flow freely, you look like a fucking porn star and Jungkook loves it. You're taking him so well he moans out loudly.

"I'm gonna fucking cum down your throat." He forces his words out and you simply take in his thrusts. With one last shove he shoots his load down your throat, you swallow around him. "Holy fucking shit, where the hell have you been all my life." His breathing was ragged as you pull off him, grinning like the slut you are. "Who knew that a princess like you loved to be treated like a whore, my whore."

He makes you stand up, you use your shirt to wipe off the drool, you avoid your tears that made makeup run down your cheeks, that's going to stain.

Jungkook kisses your pelvis as he rids you of your skort. The lace thong that matches your bra peek through and he's starting to get hard again.

He takes off his shirt and pulls you down for you to land over his shoulder. He stood up like you weigh nothing, you shriek and giggle at the way he's handling you.

He literally throws you onto the bed, but the way you landed seemed so graceful in Jungkook's eyes. So pretty, so delicate, like you were made of porcelain with the sex drive of a succubus.

His eyes were glassy, hazed from the mindblowing head he received. Crawling towards you as you scoot up to the headboard.

"Time for your prize princess." He uses his teeth to pull down your thong and expertly unclasping your bra.

"I better get my money's worth, Mr. Gold standard." He captures your lips in his before slowly kissing down on your skin, your eyes roll to the back of your head as he finds the sweet spot near your clavicle.

Your scent is addicting, what he'd give to get a taste of you everyday. He can make that happen, he will make that happen.

After all, high society is all about marrying each other to keep the weath from seeping out of your grasp. He's hypnotized by the way your chest rises and falls as he inches towards your needy pussy.

You've lost it the moment his tongue comes in contact with your folds. He wastes no time devouring you, you sound so good.

This is bad, so bad that he hasn't even fucked you properly and he already wants to marry you. Keep you close because nobody else should see what he's looking at right now.

His tongue works wonders, lips sucking on ever inch. You were chanting his name like it was a prayer. "Holy fuck baby." The petname sounds so nice coming from you.

It wasn't long until your moans become more high-pitched as you fuck yourself on his tongue. What threw you over the edge were the two fingers he inserted. You were squirting all over his face, your body shaking like a leaf.

"That was hot." He smirks up at you, putting both hands on your face as you tried to control your breathing. "You okay?" He moves up to hover over you, prying your hands away.

"I've never... I—I haven't..." Squirted but you can't seem to say it. Jungkook captures your lips again, you taste yourself.

"I'm honored, princess." He teases and you blush. How can he make you feel giddy when you literally just came all over his face.

Something inside you tell you that you'll never find another man who can make you feel like this, who can make you cum like that. No, you need this everyday.

"Jungkook." You reach down towards his erection. "I want you to fuck my brains out." Referring to your earlier conversations.

"Fuck yes baby." He dives in to kiss you with much more need than the previous one.

The tip of his head was rubbing against your opening, he was waiting for you to protest and ask him to wrap it up but you dig your heels on his ass instead.

"Fuck me." Your fingers scrape through his hair. "Please, baby." He chuckles.

"I thought you didn't beg?" He finally pushes in you, your mouth falls open but you don't make a sound other than a small squeak. "You're made for my cock. So fucking tight." He grunts.

You start begging him to go faster and harder, Jungkook happily obliges. With your thighs thrown over his shoulder, his hand wrapped around your throat, he could get used to this. You feel so good and he wasn't holding back from telling you what a good whore you are.

He lifts your ass up just a little hitting you at an angle you never knew felt so fucking good you're cumming again.

He fucks you, over and over. One orgasm after the other, you've lost count of how many. It wasn't until he spills his load all over your tits that he finally collapses next to you.

After care be damned, you both fall asleep in each other's arms covered in cum.

Your phones ring at the same time. 6pm sharp.

"Hey dad." He groans into the phone.

"Mom." You pick up your own phone.

Legs still tangled around each other as you both spoke to your parents. You both answer the same thing.

"Let me guess, dinner?" Jungkook tosses his phone on the night stand as you lay yours gently.

"Yeah, at your place." You mumble. "I think we passed out." You giggle.

"Fuck yeah we did." His bunny toothed smile. "Wanna shower together?"

With your body aching like crazy you decide to shower here. The warm bath helping you recover, of course you two fucked again.

He drops you off at your house before parking his car at their mansion next door. He waves at you as you both enter the house.

Your mom was standing by the window with a huge grin on her face.

"Did Jungkook drop you off? I though you weren't close like that?" She asks as you step up the stairs.

"Yeah, but we... We went golfing today. It was fun." You smile, and your mom simply nodded.

It was more than fun. It was definitely gold standard. The best hole in one you've had.

-----------

A/N: still debating if I should write a pt2

[seasidefae]

hellooo. i wanted to celebrate 100 followers somehow (thank you for following this yapper who can't drive!) i've been thinking about the carcar wag!oscar au A LOT. but since i don't have enough time and the creative energy to sort all these thoughts out into one 3k word one-shot right now, here are some more headcanons

welcome to the full throttle universe

i aged up oscar a little bit so they have a 4-year age difference. 26-year old oscar piastri, architect extraordinaire, with his passion projects that are mainly education and sports related. he also jumps at any chance to participate in pro bono projects for local charities in australia.

that’s how he met carlos, at a gala in madrid oscar wasn’t even supposed to attend but the company needed someone to proxy, kiss ass and what not, and everyone else was busy. oscar thought carlos was an obnoxious 1-percenter trust fund baby asshole who spilled wine all over him (accidentally), meanwhile carlos is the epitome of that one viral tiktok audio going “blah blah blah proper name place name back story stuff” while oscar is angrily whisper-yelling at him. the cherry on top of it all is when oscar complained about his expensive suit being ruined and carlos went, “i will just buy you a new one.” oscar almost punched him. almost.

oscar hasn’t forgotten about the whole ordeal even a year later when he and carlos met again at wimbledon. again, oscar got tickets from a friend and he was alone. carlos was also alone. unsurprisingly, he doesn’t recognize oscar at first. at that point oscar knows this is the rude guy at the gala but he’s aware that this is carlos sainz jr aka formula 1 driver carlos sainz jr. carlos is friendly and enthusiastic, talking in the general direction of oscar about tactics and carlos alcaraz. oscar blurts out, “i thought you were a golf guy.” that’s when carlos finally turns to him and recognition hits. (the attraction hasn’t changed either) he brought oscar to meet carlos alcaraz after, got his number, and the rest is history.

oscar first started appearing in carlos’ ig stories in the 2024 season. they had a year to really think about whether or not they want to commit. turns out they do. whenever carlos is asked about it, he just says, “oh that’s oscar” and redirects the question when he’s asked for details.

ig stories from carlos:

oscar’s ig is private, as well as all his other socials. he has like 50 followers, just friends and family that have been warned about leaks, so he has no trouble posting carlos.

ig stories from oscar:

has carlos ever slipped? the guy is tight lipped when he wants to. but mention oscar within his vicinity and he’ll have that smile that can’t be helped. people can speculate all they want.

oscar first started showing up to races in australia ‘24 aka 2 weeks after carlos’ surgery aka the race he won. oscar tried to talk him out of racing post-surgery but carlos insisted.

that’s also when the rumors started to really hit. like at first it’s a cute little thing that only 5 people have talked about, and the rest accepted the faceless guy in carlos’ ig stories and post as some rando friend named oscar. probably a childhood friend? his sister’s boyfriend? he’s not even tagged. but after australia, seeing oscar in the garage wearing the red headset, having his lower third be just “Oscar Piastri” when he appears on screen, and greeting Carlos at parc ferme when he won definitely raised some suspicion a lot more. it’s not like they weren’t ready for that. it took countless of meetings with pr people that oscar hated, a decision left fully in oscar’s hands and not carlos’ because carlos understands oscar’s need for privacy. “piñon and him have a lot in common.” going to the australian gp was more out of necessity. (for himself, considering he'll be sick with worry staying at home and wondering if carlos, who was 3-weeks post surgery, would fare okay. he just wants to make sure he's FINE.)

[gucciwins]

Gala After Gala

Harry didn’t know that one moment with Y/N would change his life. 

Word count: 28,920 (no joke)

A/N: hi amores! this has been something i have been working on for months. this is older harry and I can honestly say i've poured my heart into this piece.  special mention to @matildashoney who was just an amazing support as i worked on this on and off. thank you for being patient with me friends! 💜

i hope you enjoy, my loves. buckle in, grab your waters and happy reading!

Warnings: slow burn!!!!! (it’s worth it), angst, fluff, smut (female pleasure) 

Another gala. Another check to write.

Harry has to remind his assistant to stop accepting these invitations for him. Next time he’ll mail a check out instead. He had finished buttoning his velvet maroon coat as he handed off his keys to the valet for the hotel. The doorman guided him down the entry leading him to the extravagant ballroom.

To no surprise, the venue was decorated beautifully. There seemed to be a common theme of gold and flowers. At every turn, he saw a waiter with a boutonniere in their left pocket. The tablecloth shimmered under the dimmed lights, unlike the usual cheap fabric he saw at other events. For food, appetizers were lined up in the back with small places and forks to the side so one could serve themselves to their liking. Dinner was set to start in an hour once most of the guests arrived.

Harry mingled with a drink in his hand, not bothering to force a smile, he had the displeasure of knowing most of the people in attendance, and he can’t say he’s the biggest fan of them. They all had one thing on their mind: money. None of them cared about the cause for tonight, Harry included. All they were there for was to flaunt their money and see who could donate the most, and by the looks of it, Old man Tommy was looking to take the win by how aggressively he was signing his checkbook.

Dinner went surprisingly well. The music was a classical band that didn’t play pretentious music Harry was used to. They also didn’t play covers of pop songs. It was clear that the band had worked a long time with each other because they created beautiful melodies people could enjoy around conversation but also dancing. He never took part in the dancing, finding it tacky, and for the first time since he started attending gala’s, he was filled to the brim because the food was actually good. He cleaned his plate of the salmon he was offered.

After their meal, he knew he had to mingle, so he found an old friend Mr. Horan who he occasionally saw and invited out for a game of golf. He wouldn’t call him a friend, but he made decent company when Harry reached out. The Irish lad could hold his liquor and his jokes weren’t bad, not that Harry would ever let Niall know.

He wasn’t listening to the conversation around him. They were going on about the growth in their companies, and it was laughable. Not that he’d tell them, he wasn’t in the mood to step on their fragile egos.

“Excuse me, sir?”

Harry turns to find a young-looking waiter holding a tray with a single drink.

“Yes?” Harry asked in a bored tone.

“Lady in the black dress sent you this drink.” He nods at a woman standing at the bar's end in red heels. He couldn’t see the designer, but he knew they had to be expensive with the gloss they had on them. He wasn’t in the mood to be hit on, let alone to be sent a fruity drink. The worker did nothing wrong, so Harry took the glass. He didn’t bother excusing himself, instead making his way over to this woman who would most likely cry or scream at his rejection.

“Why’d you send this to me?” Harry questions as soon as he’s right behind her.

She turns around, a pout on her perfectly stained red lips, “you don't like an amaretto sour?”

Harry does his best not to let his face fall because she’s gorgeous. The dress looked beautiful, hugging all her curves. She was confident. He was sad he didn’t appreciate her backside more. Most women Harry knows wouldn’t dare be caught in a dress this provocative at an occasion like this, but she somehow added a hint of modesty to it with her red shawl that matched her lips perfectly. Although she’s stunning, he’s not falling for any trick of hers.

“Not my taste.”

“Oh,” the frown deepens on her face, “it looked like you weren’t enjoying your drink.”

Harry looks down at the brown liquid, “I ordered this.”

She raises her hand and shrugs. “My mistake. Your mood looked a little sour.”

It irked Harry how she had noticed him and his expressions when this was the first he saw her.

He keeps his eyes on her trying to see if he could get another reaction besides her pouty frown. “It’s the environment.”

“You don’t like Galas,” she states. “It’s an important cause.”

“It’s not that.” Harry takes a sip of the drink she sent him, mistaking it for his tequila. He holds back a reaction knowing she noticed his mistake. “I sometimes wish they asked for a check instead of making me pay a ticket and then donate a check once I’m here.”

“Oh.”

“They ask for money and give us little food,” he surprises himself by continuing to talk, not wanting to walk away from her just yet.

“The food offered tonight had large portions.”

“For once,” he scoffs.

“Open bar?” She offers.

“Strange,” he rebuttals.

“But it works.”

Her gaze shifts to someone behind her, and Harry knows she’s about to walk away from him, and he hates that he wants to follow her. She leaves her drink behind, moving around him, getting ready to head to the person seeking her company.

“See you around, Mr. Styles.”

Harry watches her walk away until she gets lost in the crowd. As Harry keeps sipping the drink she ordered for him, there’s one thought swimming around his head.

He had never given her his name, let alone his last name.

For the rest of the night, he had kept an eye on her, seeing as she glided from donor to donor. Everyone laughed with her. She was charming them all. It worked on everyone, even Harry, something he’d never admit to her. As Harry watches her speak with the host of the night, an old family friend comes up to him.

“Styles, where have you been hiding?” Miles asks, a giant grin on his face.

“Nowhere.”

Miles isn’t bothered by his answers; he is already used to Harry’s attitude. “How are you?”

“Well.”

“What are you drinking?”

Harry looks down at the empty glass that once held his second amaretto sour. “Nothing now.”

“Want another of whatever?”

He shakes his head, “good for now, thank you.”

“Why are you still here? I know you do your rounds and leave.”

“Uh…got to know a few people.”

Miles sees that Harry’s gaze hasn’t shifted for a second, and he finds where Harry has been staring for the last few minutes.

“Oh, Y/N.”

Y/N.

He repeats her name over and over, committing it to memory.

“Have you met her?” Miles asked him.

“Only for a moment.” Harry digs for more, “what do you think?

“She’s brilliant. Y/N is an intern for Lifelong Creativity long term but works side jobs with different partners Hope has introduced her to. I can’t tell you exactly what she does, but I know she’s passionate and would talk anyone’s ear off who asks. She’s finishing her degree soon, and everyone wants to snatch her up by the sounds of it. I wouldn’t be surprised if she was already working up on opening her own nonprofit soon.”

“How old did you say she was?”

“She’s 23.”

“Real young.”

“Yeah, but it’s clear she knows what she’s doing.”

“You should speak with her. I’m sure she’d love to. She knows every person on the guest list. Seeing as she helped create it.”

Safe to say, Harry was intrigued to learn more about Y/N.

Life moved on. He pushed the college student out of his head and continued on with his life, or so he told himself. When a new invitation arrived the following week for an event taking place at the end of the month, he was quick to get Pearl to RSVP for him.

+

Now the night has arrived, and he isn’t sure why he’s here.

It’s not to try to get a look at Y/N, not at all hoping to have a longer conversation. He learned her name; it doesn’t mean he wants to use it.

He spots her as soon as he arrives at the bar. She’s wearing a sage green dress with embroidered flowers all around. She’s wearing white heels tied around her calf, and he wants to know how long it took her to get the perfect bow for each foot. Harry soon sees her with another woman with a checkbook in her hand, another familiar face.

Before he can second guess himself, he’s walking towards them.

“Hello, Lucy.” Harry greets her with a charming smile and a kiss on the older woman’s cheek.

“Mr. Styles, always a pleasure.”

“It’s always mine.”

“I was just speaking with Y/N here, thanking her for helping me plan a successful night.” Lucy smiles at Y/N, who squeezes Lucy’s outstretched hand.

“Quite something,” Harry inputs.

“Evening, Mr. Styles.”

He nods at her, “Y/N.”

“Lifelong Creativity is lucky to have her. I’m glad you were able to help out, Y/N.” They all hear Lucy’s name being called from a distance and know she’s about to leave them alone. “Excuse me, will you?”

It now leaves them alone, making Y/N finally look at him. Her lipstick is a soft pink with an added shine of glitter. He wonders if he were to kiss her if it’d stain his lips just the same. He clears his throat, willing the thoughts away.

“You’re an intern,” Harry states.

She doesn’t seem surprised. “Yes, I, uh, graduate soon.”

“Undergrad?”

She smirks because she knows he’s searching for information about her. Y/N shakes her head, “Grad.”

“What’s your job?”

“I work for various nonprofits as well as hospitals. I’m part of their sub-events team.” She shrugs like it’s nothing of importance, but it is.

She’s part of the team that plans events to gain more funding for their organization and programs. She plans events to get people with heavy pockets, like Harry, to fork away thousands for a cause they believe in. Harry had often disregarded Gala invites due to ticket prices, but if his chances to see Y/N increased, he might just come to them all.

Harry does his best to hide how impressed he is with her.

“I’m sure you’ve reached your goal. Emptied all these fools out of their pockets.”

Y/N flashes him a grim smile. “Good day.”

What he said was clearly wrong because what Harry thought would be a long conversation was cut short.

The rest of the night, he never finds a moment alone with her. It’s as if she was dancing around him, having noticed that he was chasing her. It seemed she loved to play, and Harry didn’t like to lose.

+

Harry needed to pick up his suit from his tailor. He had a date, and this was his good luck suit. He pushed Y/N out of his mind. She was an intern and too young for him. He did not need to think about her or worry about seeing her at another event he attended. He was picking up his burgundy suit that needed fixing. It was made by his dear friend Alessandro. Usually, Alessandro makes alterations, but he was traveling at the moment, and Bartolo was the best. He had been coming to Bartolo long before meeting Alessandro. While his friend always made the most gorgeous suits, he seemed to have gotten his measurements wrong. Not that he minded. Harry liked paying Bartolo a visit, who always told him he needed to settle down with someone. That he wanted to see Harry happy. Harry simply told him it wasn’t the card for him.

He walks in, ready to be greeted by Bartolo, but to his surprise, he sees Y/N seated on a chair facing away from the window with a book in her hand.

“Y/N?”

She looks up, a slight smile on her face. “Mr. Styles, a pleasure.”

“Just Harry, please.”

She shrugs him off.

“Do you work here, Y/N?” He loves the role of her name off his tongue.

“My friend is an apprentice.”

“Dawn?” Seeing she’s the only other worker here besides Bartolo wasn’t that lucky of a guess.

Y/N, for the first time ever, smiles at him. It’s beautiful. It leaves him breathless. “Yes. Does she work with you too?”

Harry clears his throat, “no, uh, I work with Bartolo.”

He was surprised. Dawn had been working with Bartolo for two years, never had he crossed paths with Y/N. It was strange he found himself meeting her outside of their usual environment of a Gala. Seeing her dressed in a silk midi skirt with a slit going up her leg bundled up in an oversized sweater showcasing her university. The chunky boots on her feet gave her extra height, and Harry wished she’d stand up so he could see where she’d measure to him now. At their first meeting, he didn’t take note, but she noticed how she was a head smaller than him by their second meeting. Today he wondered if she’d be lined up to his lips if she would think of kissing him just like he thought of her.

She hums in response, leaving them in silence. He doesn’t know why but he wants her to keep talking. He wants to hear the softness of her voice fill the room.

“Bello!” Bartolo grins, bringing out his suit in his garment bag. Even that bag was customized with his name stitched in gold thread.

“Hello, Bartolo.”

Dawn walks in from the back, a few steps away from Bartolo and Y/N. “Y/N, your dress is ready to try on.”

Y/N follows behind Dawn but calls to him, “see you, Mr. Styles.”

Not a single glance his way. He wanted just one final look, and she didn’t give him that. Harry goes on his way home after paying Bartolo. He goes home with a clouded mind and a heavy heart.

Harry cancels his date that night.

+

No invites have arrived at his house or office.

It has been over a month, and he waits and waits. Harry has never been so aware of time as he has now. He feels every hour move slower, and he has no idea why. What kind of spell has she set on him that she is all he can think of?

He was tempted to look for her online. He had the power to do it, but he couldn’t break her trust. Harry doesn’t know her well, but he knows she’d hate it if someone looked them up without permission.

A knock on his door breaks him out of these thoughts.

“Come in.”

“Mr. Styles,” his temporary assistant Diego, while Pearl was away on maternity leave.

“Yes, Diego.”

“You said to come in if you received a new invitation.” There, in his employee’s hand, is a gold envelope.

In black ink is his name written on the front of the envelope. He opens it and reads from a close partner of his.

Golden Skies Invites you to join us as we celebrate our 10th anniversary.

Formal Attire - Be ready to dance

Anthony Carmichael

+

Y/N was nervous.

She could remember the last time she had felt her palms sweat and her heart wanting to beat out of her chest. It was when she was interviewing in front of the board the last step to seal her fate if she’d be accepted into the Graduate program of her dreams. Now here, she was nervous for an entirely new reason, this one holding less value to her life, but she knew it had the power to change the course of her life.

As much as Y/N loved the game of chase, she wanted to see if Harry was all talk or serious about pursuing her. Y/N had the confidence to go after what she wanted, and right now, she wanted to ask Harry Styles, CEO of Pleasing, a growing business, their net worth growing by the day.

Today she wore a satin midi slip dress with floral applique and lace trims in a dark shade of pink. An open back with delicate buttons on her lower back. This dress only doubled her confidence. She was ready for tonight.

The team had planned a big night as there would be dancing and a live band, unlike the past gala’s she had attended last month. Guests arrived promptly and quickly took a tour of the venue, many judging it, trying to find anything they felt didn’t hold up to their standards. She didn’t mind; she knew she could never please everyone. As long as she pleased her partners, then she knew she had done a job well done.

Y/N had to will herself to stop staring at the doors as they opened, bringing in familiar and new guests. She was waiting for a green-eyed man who never failed to impress with his custom-made suits from Gucci’s creative director.

“Y/N, sweetie. This is marvelous,” Keaton praises, leaning in to kiss both her cheeks, something she had to grow accustomed to seeing as most of her partners were big on the French greeting.

“Oh, uh, thank you. We’ll have to see how the night goes,” she tells him brushing off the compliment.

“You need to relax. Don’t you have Gracie to worry for you?” Keaton questions.

“Yes, but–”

“Nope,” Keaton cuts her off. “You need a drink in hand. You look smokin’, and everyone needs to see it.”

“I really shouldn’t.”

“As far as I am concerned, your work here is done.” Keaton passes her a glass of champagne he got from the waiters walking around happily offering them to guests. “Now drink.”

She takes a sip and hums, appreciating the bubbly drink. Y/n might not be sure what brand she’s drinking tonight, but she does know that each bottle costs over one hundred dollars, and if Keaton is telling her to enjoy then she will. Plus, a bit of liquor courage was always helpful.

Y/N spends time speaking with Nora and Liam, part of her team. They get lost in conversation, going over how they’re looking forward to the auction in a few weeks that Nora was happy to be part of. She loved getting people to spend money on her, and she seemed to get offers from everyone in the building. Nora returned with the most insane stories, and Y/N was excited for more. Getting lost in conversation, she forgot about the man she was waiting for to make his presence known. He had RSVP’d, and it wasn’t until Liam told her a broody man had his eye on her from across the room.

She knew Harry had arrived and that he had spotted her before she could spot him, not that Harry knew she was looking out for him. Harry stands alone, a champagne flute in his hand. The music was loud, and the dance floor had couples dancing and laughing out loud, enjoying the night. Y/N hoped she’d be joining in on their fun in a few minutes.

As Y/N walked towards Harry, she admired his suit. It was different from the previous ones he had worn. The suit had a subtle black flower print. As she got closer, Harry acted like he didn’t see her coming, choosing to look at the dancing couples. She allowed herself to notice the details in his suit, from the black velvet lapels on his oversized jacket and his trousers hugging his thighs nicely while the bottom gave a nice balance with a flared hem. She really liked the look.

“Mr. Styles,” Y/N greeted

“Y/N.”

She let his eyes roam over her knowing she looked amazing. This was a borrowed dress, one she would be sad giving back, but it served its purpose. Plus, it wasn’t like she’d have an occasion to wear the dress again, not when all these people would remember.

“Do you dance, Mr. Styles?” Y/N asks as she joins him in, watching couples spin each other around. The music was more lively than the classical she knew he preferred.

“Never.”

“Are you not good at it?”

Harry scoffs, “I’m just not open to doing something intimate with acquaintances.”

“I see.” They stay silent for a few minutes until Y/N decides it’s now or never. “There was something I wanted to ask you.” She tells him, turning away from the dance floor to face him.

Harry gives her no reaction. “Is that so?” She nods. “Well, go ahead.”

She looks behind her, and when she turns back around, she has the most gorgeous smile on her face, not an inch of nerves, not like a few seconds ago, and Harry feels his heart speed up. He wasn’t sure what she would ask, but he might just agree to anything she said if she continued smiling at him.

“I was hoping you’d like to go on a date with me.”

A date.

Harry felt his throat closing up. She was asking him out. He didn’t believe it. Why would she want to date him? He wasn’t aware he had managed to make an impression. Harry’s ego is through the roof at the thought of this gorgeous young woman wanting to go out with him, but on the other hand, his brain is telling him he can’t. That she was younger than him, and he had no reason to involve himself with her.

He knows he has been silent for too long as he sees her smile begin to slip. They both know the answer that’s coming.

“No, Y/N. The answer is no,” he forces out in a neutral voice, hoping she couldn’t pick up on the bitterness he felt towards himself for rejecting her.

Y/N did not move an inch. He had expected her smile to fall or for her to ask him to reconsider, but he got none of that. Instead, she tucked away her smile and gave him a slow nod. Her eyes stayed locked with his, and Harry had trouble reading her. It seemed she was unaffected. So he tries again.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.”

She brushes him off, “you don’t go through life without receiving a rejection. You’re not the first, and I’m sure you won’t be the last.”

Except Harry doubted that. Who could ever say no to her? Apparently, he could.

He did nothing as she excused herself, wanting to put as much distance between them as possible. He had no right to be with someone as sweet and young as Y/N. It was fine. He wouldn’t be seeing much of her after tonight.

Harry would think about this interaction for days, beating himself up for saying no, but it was for the best.

At least, that’s what he kept telling himself.

+

Rejections never came easy.

It wasn’t the first time Y/N got told no, and as she told Harry, it wouldn’t be her last.

Was she disappointed he said no? Absolutely.

Was he out of her league? One hundred percent, and Harry must have known that.

Y/N thought there was something there. She knew who he was. There was a reason she sent him a drink that night. She didn’t ask him out for his connections or because he was crazy rich but because she heard people speak about Harry, a great man. From someone who spends time volunteering at the soup kitchen to donating gifts to hospitals during the holidays. No need to mention the extensive checks he leaves after each gala. Many people are philanthropists or say they are because it’s a write-off or will make them look good, but Harry does it to remember where he came from in that small town in England.

She knew too much about Harry from colleagues and guests but never got to know anything from the man himself, and that is something she’ll regret. Instead of taking the chance to learn from him, she asked him out, and now she’d keep sending invitations to his company while doing her best to avoid him, or at least until she got over the humiliation.

Y/N let herself wallow in pity for only a day. 24 hours is all she gives herself because it’s back to work on Monday. No need to be stuck on something so trivial.

By doing so, she takes herself out to eat. A meal that will always make her smile is dumplings, and she knows just the place. The Dumpling Bar is a favorite place of Y/N’s to dine alone or with her friends. The service is fantastic, never failing to leave her feeling so welcomed and leaving with a full stomach. She always sits in the front, with a nice view of the window facing the small lake it is located by. She treats it as a reward because it is a bit of a drive from her apartment. She wished she lived somewhere closer, but for now, she’ll keep making the drive. The back area is for classier meals, Y/N likes to say, even though they are all eating dumplings. Guests are allowed to have a seat in the backroom for a more intimate dinner.

Upon arrival, Y/N is greeted by Alba, the hostess who, just like her name, reflects the warmest energy she feels every time she sees her.

“Hi, Alba!”

“Hello beautiful, it’s great seeing you. Table by the window, alright?”

Alba points to the table Y/N had been eyeing since she walked in and eagerly lets her know it’s perfect.

“Danielle will be with you shortly.”

Y/N thanks her. It was not long before Danielle took her order, making small conversation and promising her that her food would be out shortly, and true to her word, Y/N did not have to wait long.

Oh, how she was looking forward to eating until her tummy was full. On a full stomach, she’d be too sleepy to even begin to remember why she was feeling sad.  

As Y/N munches on her dumplings, she can’t help but overhears the conversation. Next to her, a couple is sharing dumplings and talking very loudly.

“I told my father that a horse would not make me happy, not when my last one had been a champion. How could I go back to the Hamptons to show my face going from a winning horse to one that would surely be a loser.”

Y/N giggles. Oh, the drama. She enjoys listening to the couple, the boyfriend trying to be supportive and failing.

“Tell your dad to get the best trainer.”

“Chad, you’re not helping. Father is working hard, and I can’t bother him over a coach. Everyone is lousy in the industry now.”

The conversation seems to be going in circles. Y/N enjoys dining alone because she can’t imagine having dinner with someone she does not like. There would be awkward conversation and forced smiles. It’s a big reason she’ll never be on a dating app. Also, it helps that attending so many galas has connected her with many single men, not that any of them have been worth her time.

Y/N was waiting for Danielle to return her card and receipt because she was ready to call it a night. She had a full belly and was craving her bed. She’s humming along to the song being played in the restaurant. She had been trying to think of the song's name, but she’s been coming up blank. The front opens, and she hears Alba’s cheery voice greet them. Curiosity gets the best of Y/N, and she turns her head to the entrance to see who walked in when she sees a man in an emerald suit, the jacket a pinch oversized, and it seems the sleeves were folded in not that anyone would notice, the woman on his arm was gorgeous. It’s clear she dressed up for a night out on the town with how shiny her dress was, maybe even too bright for a fancy dumpling restaurant.

“My date and I have a reservation,” Y/N freezes as she hears the man��s voice. His voice was firm but polite, the English accent thick as he stated his name to Alba’s. He looks around the dining room, and that’s when Y/N looks back down, staring at her used napkin and empty cup that once held her raspberry lemonade.

The hostess nods, “we’ve got the private dining area ready, sir.”

Y/N ducks her head, afraid if he spotted her, he’d give her a look of pity, and she didn’t need that tonight, not when she had seen it when he rejected her.  It was no surprise he said no to her. She could never look that elegant on a weekday, let alone a day after a gala where she stayed hours past all the guests. Y/N sits there in orange bell bottoms and a black knitted sweater.  She looks lovely, and this is her favorite restaurant. This brought all the feelings back Y/N had thought she had let go of, and honestly, as much as it broke her heart, Y/N knew she wouldn’t be coming back any time soon.

+

It’s been a month of endless planning and working with Hermanas Unidas, and Y/N was thankful the night was finally here. Tonight would be a bit different, and she was more on edge than ever. There would be an auction in a few hours, and Y/N wanted everything to run smoothly for Julieta, who has always been a good friend to her but today was her boss.

Y/N had raided Sapra’s, her best friend’s closet, once again. She knew she had to buy new clothes for her events, but she loved her best friend’s style and would rather borrow a dress than spend money on a new one. She was wearing a maxi dress with tie straps. Y/N chose it because she had fallen in love with the velvet material, and after trying it on, she felt sexy, not to mention she loved a slit to show off an extra bit of skin.

Sapra made Y/N promise she’d bring it back soon, stating it was her date night dress, and Y/N didn’t bother asking because whatever Sapra and her boyfriend did was not her concern.

The night had been in full swing since the doors opened to the venue. She had managed to blend into the background for most of the event and successfully avoided seeing the guest list for tonight, meaning she got to enjoy life without a care in the world.

After the rejection, she has happily moved on (or so she’s telling herself) Sapra and Atlas took her out on a double date that left her feeling back in her game. Her confidence was doubled, and she was ready to go out and have fun. No reason she had to stop because of one rejection. Although the man she went on a date with did not go well tonight, she’d be speaking with Colin, who had been made partner at Coulson’s Co. He was a family lawyer, and truth be told, Y/N was eating up everything he was telling her.

He was charming and had a deep laugh that sent chills down her spine. He was drinking wine and offered to get Y/N a glass when he saw she had been eyeing it. It’s safe to say Y/N was upset when Julieta’s assistant approached her to say she was needed backstage. Colin promised he’d miss her and looked forward to finding her soon.

Y/N was sure nothing would wipe the smile off her face until Julieta told Y/N why she was needed.

“Part of the auction?” Y/N exclaimed. “You’re joking!”

Julieta grimaced, “Erica called in sick. Always knew she’d flake.”

“Julieta!”

“Please, mi amor. I really need you. You’re all I have. I can’t do one less, not when I advertised five eligible bachelorettes.”

“Hope they can settle with me,” Y/N mutters.

“Dios, you know I hate when you talk like that. You are a beautiful woman. I’ve never seen confidence like yours, so please bring that Y/N back.” Julieta has done so much for Y/N, and she knows there’s no way she’d say no to her.

“Fine, what will I have to do?”

“It’s a good cause, Y/N, and I’m sure you’ll have a great time. If it’s someone you don’t feel comfortable with, I’ll handle it,” Julieta reassures her.

Y/N relents and allows herself to be dragged to the side of the stage, where four other ladies are lined up.

Here’s to a fun night. She really hoped Colin liked her enough to place a bid on her.

Harry was disappointed, to say the least. He had not caught a glimpse of her all night. He wanted to know what she was wearing, how she had styled her hair, and if she was drinking anything new. Tonight did not have a strict dress code, so he had settled on a simple black custom suit. He paired the suit with a black tank top, and to give it that extra flare, he wore his silver glitter boots.

As he spent the night looking for her, he knew he would not find her. The first time they met was because she wanted them to, and now she was back to blending into the crowd, but he knew he’d find her. He knew it was wrong to want to see her after rejecting her, but she was the only thing on his mind. Harry was never the type to get distracted, but here he is, attending another gala in the hope of getting a single glimpse of Y/N.

Harry knew he would find her, but he didn’t think it’d be by the owner of the organization presenting her onstage as an eligible bachelorette you could bid to take on a date. Harry was prepared to pay the auction no attention, but she always surprised him.  

He hadn’t seen her since he said no to her. Harry had rejected her not because he didn’t like her but because he was older. She was still in school, and he was running a billion-dollar company. He had the time and love to give, but he didn’t want to take away anything from her. He had no idea what she wanted out of life, and Harry was sure one date with Y/N and he’d be ready to get down on one knee because he recognized how intelligent and hardworking she was. It was rare that Harry found a person that could challenge him, but Y/N did it without a second thought. He didn’t want her to miss out on life experiences because he was at a different point in his life than her. He wouldn’t do it to her, no matter how much his heart hurt at never getting the chance to get to know her and the taste of her lips.

The bidding was starting, and Harry found himself with a numbered paddle. The number six stared at him, and he knew he would not be putting his hand down until he won that date with her because Harry was sure every person in that room who bid on her would not treat her the way she deserved.

“Good evening, everyone! I am Julieta, as you all already know. Tonight’s auction is slightly different. We always do amazing vacations, but tonight we decided something different. Behind me stand five beautiful women who are very important to this organization and me. So be aware that if you bid on one or more of these women, they will talk your ear off about Hermanas Unidas. Starting off, we have Clarissa.”

Y/N was the last person to be auctioned for the night. He didn’t know why she would do this? It didn’t seem like her, but then again, Harry didn’t really know her did he?

She walked up to Julieta with a beautiful smile on her face. She scanned the audience, and Harry froze, thinking she was searching for him but there in the second row, she locked eyes with a man and offered him a wink. Harry wouldn’t be surprised if she was seeing someone else already. He knew he was feeling green but swallowed it down, for it wasn’t the place to act out on jealousy of someone he had no ownership over.

“Bidding for the angelic Y/N starts at $500.”

Four hands shot up. Harry’s included.

“$1000,” the blonde guy in the second row offered as he was the first hand up.

“Very well. Do I have $1,250?”

Harry was quicker this time, his number up first. Julieta nodded, accepting his bid. He had his eyes locked on Y/N, and the moment she realized it was his number, he saw her take a step back, surprised to see him bidding for her.

She kept a smile, but he knew it was forced now, no longer carefree.

“$1,500?”

The blonde once again beat Harry, “$3,000.”

Harry rolled his eyes. Is that the best this guy could offer? Harry was ready to lay down all his money if it meant a date with Y/N. The highest bid was for Samantha at $11,000, and the person who bid was her boyfriend, the owner of his family’s business he inherited three years ago.

He decided he’d wait to see how long this guy wanted to play because, for Y/N, he wouldn’t be backing down. “$5000,” Harry countered.

That seemed to get the blonde’s attention as he turned around to get a look at Harry, who only offered him a smirk tempting him to play his game, and by the scrawl the blonde gave Harry, he knew this was now about betting the most for Y/N but also who could prove to have the larger pocket.

“$8,000,” the blonde stood, not even glancing at Y/N anymore.

“$10,000.” Harry has now stepped closer to the stage, not caring that all the attention was on him and his opponent.

“$15,000,” the blonde winced, and it seemed only Harry heard it.

Julieta waited to see if Harry would respond, with one last raise of his paddle, “$30,000.”

The gasps were loud, but Harry didn’t care. His eyes were locked on Y/N’s, who stared at him in disbelief. He had doubled the blonde’s number, and it seemed he was out by the way he shook his head and sat down.

Julieta did not let her surprise show and accepted Harry’s bid, closing the auction with an offer of $30,000 for Y/N to go on a date with him. Harry was proud and shot the blonde man a smug smile as he was guided backstage, as he asked to speak with Julieta when in reality, he went in search of Y/N.

Upon arrival, he found her taking a sip of her red wine for the night. She looked exquisite, not a hair out of place, and her makeup was done to perfection. She shined as the true diamond of the night.

“Y/N,” Harry called out to her softly.

She turned, a frown on her face. “Mr. Styles.”

Harry frowned. He couldn’t detect an ounce of kindness in her voice. “Seems like we have a date,” he joked, wanting to see her smile.

Y/N scoffs, “why did you do it, Mr. Styles?”

“Pardon?” Harry hates how she says his name with so much distaste.

“Why’d you bid on me? It’s clear you have no interest in me.”

Harry wasn’t sure where to go from here because that was the furthest from the truth. He didn’t have to reply because Y/N wasn’t done talking.

“How can you be jealous when you said no when I asked you out?” Harry stays silent. “That’s what it was, right? My attention wasn’t on you anymore, and you didn’t like that. Did flaunting all your money make you feel good?”

“Y/N,” he steps towards her, but she puts her hand up to stop him, and he freezes. “I’m asking you now.”

She frowns, her voice rising. Harry never wished to see her upset, but it’s exactly what he caused. “No, this isn’t you asking.”

Harry sighs. There is no getting through to her. “Come on, Y/N, don’t be difficult.”

It’s clear that was the wrong thing to say because her eyebrows scrunch up, and there’s not a hint of kindness in her eyes, only a blazing fire that he seemed to be the cause of, and he regrets everything he has said to her from the moment he met her.”

“This is how you want to go out,” she points to the number on her chest, displaying her as contestant number five. “Because if so, I’ll take the money, but I won’t go.”

“C’mon, Y/N, give me a shot. That’s all I’m asking for.”

“YOU BOUGHT ME, HARRY!”

Harry winces because he did. He bought a date with her, and some part of him regrets doing this without speaking to her, but it’s too late now.

Julieta comes up behind Y/N and places a hand on her shoulder, “Mr. Styles, thank you for your donation. We will deposit the check the day after your date, you know, for insurance purposes on both ends.”

“Of course, Julieta. I have always been a fan of the work you are all doing.” Harry hopes she doesn’t pick up on the tension between him and Y/N.

“You’re a gem, Mr. Styles.” Julieta shoots him a polite smile before turning her attention to Y/N. “I owe you one, Y/N, but I’m sure you’ll have a great night with this fine gentleman.”

And like that, they’re alone again.

They stand there in silence, waiting for Julieta to turn the corner to return to the party. They don’t want anyone overhearing their conversation. It’s clear they both have a lot more to say.

Harry starts wanting Y/N to know how sorry he is. “Don’t, uh, don’t think of it as a date. Think of it as an apology.”

Y/N rolls her eyes, “an apology I’m forced to accept because you paid for it.”

Harry grimaces. There’s no coming back from this.

“What would your girlfriend think of spending $30 grand on another person?”

Girlfriend?

There was no girlfriend in his life. It’s been years since he had a partner. There’s only one girl he wishes to make his girlfriend, but he royally screwed that up, so he knows it will never happen.

“No girlfriend, I can assure you.”

“You’re a liar,” Y/N spits out.

“Enough,” Harry rebuttals. “There is no one.”

“I saw you. I won’t date someone else’s boyfriend.”

“Saw me?”

“Eating dumplings, or I was eating dumplings,” she fumbles. “You walked in with a date. I’m sure you were very cozy in the private room.

Harry’s eyes widened, “Y/N no, it was only a date.”

Hearing it was a date just as much as seeing him with the other woman. It is confirmation enough for Y/N to know there wasn’t another person she’d be hurting if word got out she went out on a date with Harry Styles.

“Please,” Harry begs.

“If I do this, you double the donation,” Y/N counters, and seeing how desperate Harry looked, she knew he’d agree to anything at this moment.

Harry doesn’t even react. He pulls out his checkbook, ready to write the check.

“Make it out to you or the charity,” Harry teases, hoping to ease the tension.

She rolls her eyes, “Hermanas Unidas would be wonderful, thank you.”

“Y/N,” his tone full of defeat

“I’m doing this for Julieta,” Y/N declares.” Not for you.”

Harry nods.

“You can get my number from the sheet. All the details for your reward are there.”

Harry watches her pick up her drink and walk away from him, leaving him alone to feel sorry for himself. And he knows he has a lot to make up for if he wants any chance with Y/N.

+

Y/N has been dreading this day.

It had been a week from the fateful day of the auction where Harry bid $30,000 well, now $60,000 for a date with her. The donation would do wonders, but she had to make it through an afternoon with Harry. Seeing as Harry informed her that it would be something casual but ending with a nice dinner. Y/N had no idea what that meant, but she decided that her brown checkered trousers and an old knitted sweater that always kept her warm would be a safe outfit.

She managed to slip on her shoes as she heard the doorbell ring, perfect timing.

Opening her door, she found Harry smiling, a small bouquet of flowers in his hands. They were a beautiful shade of violet chrysanthemums. Y/N knew these were a rare shade to find, and she tried her best to bite back her smile at the sentiment.

“Hi, Harry.”

“Hello, Y/N, you look wonderful.”

She nodded but made no move to invite him in.

“Uh, t-these are for you,” he extended his hand, waiting for her to accept them. She was careful to not have his fingers brush against hers, not needing him to add to her nerves.

“I’ll, umm, go put these in water.”

Y/N knows she left him awkwardly hanging outside her apartment, but she was, in a way, inviting him in. She doesn’t want or need to cross that line with him. After setting the flowers on her counter and double-checking that the stove was off, she grabbed her bag and returned to Harry, who looked awkward waiting for her.

As Y/N locks her door and follows behind Harry, she can see that he did mean casual. He’s wearing wide-leg jeans that don’t do much to give him any shape. He paired it with a duck-stitched cardigan that softened his features in a way that his luxurious suits never have.  

Harry opened her door, offering a small smile as she slipped into his Bentley; the car couldn’t be more than a few months old by how sleek and cared-for everything looked. Y/N thinks of her Camry, better known as Baymax. The car that got her through undergrad and is still by her side now as she’s getting her master’s. Baymax has seen better days, but from what her father tells her, as long as she continues to care for the car as she has been, she has many years left with Baymax.

Harry's playlist in his car allows her to relax, classical music has always had a calming effect on her, and this time is no different. Harry didn’t try to spark conversation during the ride, and Y/N didn’t want to try either. She could feel the tension rising in the car as he fiddled every few minutes with the radio while Y/N tried to figure out where he was taking her.

It was half an hour until Harry turned up a paved road that led them to a large building, the parking lot full of cars. Y/N sat up straight, trying to figure out where he had brought them, but she’d never driven out this way. It was a hidden area, and the road easily missed when driving down if one isn’t actively searching for it.  

They pass a sign that reads, “Sunshine Haven” Y/N wants to say she’s heard the name but can’t pin it at this moment, she’s tempted to take her phone out and google, but something tells her Harry will have an explanation for her. As Harry parks in a spot that reads ‘reserved,’ she unbuckles herself but doesn’t move to get out as she sees Harry has not moved, instead playing with the beaded charm on his key chain.

“Before we go in, I want to say that I did go on a date.” Harry begins, clearly uncomfortable but important enough for him to bring up. “She is not my girlfriend. It was only one date.”

Y/N shrugs, disinterested. It doesn’t matter to her, no more than he does to her right now.

“I asked her out. It was a bad date. That’s all. I don’t even have her number.”

Y/N wishes he hadn’t told her this, that he kept it to himself because it hurts her a lot more than she thought to hear Harry talk about asking another person out. He asked that person out because he was interested in them, while Y/N got a rejection. It’s clear to her now that Harry goes after what he wants, and it’s clearly not her.

“All forgotten,” she tells him with a forced smile and then gets out of the car. Harry follows a few seconds after coming to meet her at her side. Y/N feels the chilly air and is thankful for her sweater because she doesn’t know what Harry has planned, but it doesn’t feel like anything warm is waiting for her.

He begins to walk, and Y/N follows a step behind him. She takes in the beautiful environment growing around her, the trees and shrubs a bright green displaying how much sunlight they must receive daily. Harry stops walking as they reach the welcome center entrance. Y/N sees how fidgety he’s gotten again and knows he has something to share, so she stays silent.

Harry rubs his eyebrow, a tell-sign he’s nervous, “uh, I thought Sunshine Haven Rehabilitation would be a good place to bring you because I’ve seen various causes you’re passionate about, and well, this is one of mine.” He gestures to the entrance, where there’s a bulletin board of all the animals that have been released back into the ocean; on the bottom are sponsors, and listed second to last is none other than H. Styles. His photo icon is of him smiling, that dimple he never seems to show off was on display with a stuffed dolphin in his arms, and it warms Y/N’s stomach in a way she hasn’t felt since she first introduced herself to him.

Y/N knows she has mixed emotions. She can go about this one of two ways: act nonchalant as if her heart didn’t grow three sizes when finding out that Harry brought her to a place that clearly meant so much to him, or embrace the day and see what Harry and this beautiful rehabilitation have to offer.

“Lead the way then, Styles,” Y/N gave him a small smile, hoping to ease his nerves, and the one she got in return managed to call her down as well.

Y/N was ready to get to know the real Harry Styles, even if it didn’t mean anything more to Harry because, at the end of the day, she could make a fantastic friend, which didn’t sound like a bad idea to her. Walking in, a receptionist greets them, asking if they’re here to volunteer or pay for a visit until the lady slips her glasses on and gasps seeing Harry in front of her.

“Young man, you haven’t been here in ages,” she scolds him.

Y/N bites a smile as Harry looks down bashfully. She uses this time to look at the woman’s name tag: Sally.

“Sorry, Sally. I’ve been busy.” Harry wraps her in a hug, and Sally sighs.

“Fine, fine. Go on, I forgot you called in.”

Y/N, not wanting to be rude, moves aside and stretches out her hand. “Sorry, I’m Y/N, a friend of Harry’s. Thank you for having us.”

“Oh, sweetie, aren't you polite.” Sally accepts her hand, giving her a firm shake. “I’d hug you, but this one is known to be jealous.” Sally gestures to Harry, causing Y/N to laugh.

“I know.” Y/N grins at Harry loving the chance to tease him.

“Haha, we’ll be going now.”

“Have fun, dears.”

Harry opens a door, leading them down a long hallway until it shows displays of different areas for each animal in the rehabilitation center. It’s clear how loved this location is, with all volunteers walking around each animal center.

“What are we allowed to do?”

He shrugs, “mainly walk around, feed a seal if we’re lucky.”

She tries to contain her excitement, “are we going to be lucky?”

“We’ll have to see, won’t we.”

Y/N pouts but doesn’t push him. He kind of hoped she would. She lets Harry take the lead in showing her around. A few other school groups are volunteering, and Y/N knows if she were their age, she would have also signed up to volunteer here. Her time in the library was put to good use; she learned how to code and the Dewey decimal system of her town’s library.

She stays silent as Harry tells her about the first section: the sea turtles. Y/N can’t help but take in Harry as he talks about Sunshine Haven with pride; his eyes shine with every new fact he rambles about without looking at any of the information boards displayed. Y/N doesn’t dare interrupt him, letting him guide her. She’s almost tempted to reach for his hand because his strides are more extended than hers, and she always finds herself catching up.

Y/N stops as she sees a sign for the otters. Her eyes shine with delight. She calls his name when she sees him walking away.

“Let’s go there, please.” It’s her first request, and Harry smiles, seeing her waiting for him to say yes and guide them to see the otters, her favorite animal.

“I don’t know, seems busy.” He teases.

She doesn’t stop herself when she reaches for his hand, deciding that she will take him there since he doesn’t seem to want to take her.

“Hurry, Harry. I want to see the otters. Please,” she begs

“Lead the way, love.”

She leads the way to the otters while Harry giggles knowing he’d follow her to the ends of the Earth. Y/N made him feel like a little kid full of happiness and never-ending energy. He wanted to spend every moment with her, and having the day with her would have to be enough for now.

Y/N coos as she catches sight of the otters happily swimming in the cold water. She steps towards the glass waving at the otters, although Y/N and Harry know the otters can’t see her. It doesn’t stop her; if anything, she steps closer, trying to get herself as close to them as possible. She looks like a little kid admiring their favorite animal for the first time.

“Didn’t know you were such a big fan,” Harry tells her as she marvels in awe at the different sea animals.

“Oh, I was certain I would be a marine biologist when I was five.”

Harry laughs, clearly picturing a small Y/N with her wide smile looking at picture books of animals and stating she’d be taking care of them.

“What happened?”

“Biology is what happened,” she shutters in disgust. “They made me dissect a frog, and it broke my heart. I thought they were all about helping animals, not studying their insides.”

“Oh, love.”

Y/N feigns tears, “I’ve never recovered.” She lifts her head to flash him a cheeky smile while he shakes his head at her antics.

Harry giggles at her act of sadness, having believed her bit. “You’re trouble.”

She shrugs, “only a few can handle me.”

And Harry knows he would be lucky to say that she’s his.

+

Dinner is something Harry had been looking forward to all afternoon. He enjoyed walking around Sunshine Haven with Y/N and seeing her relaxed and happy in an environment he loved. Harry led her down some stairs until they were met by a small opening that led them to a large tunnel. Y/N let out a gasp seeing all the fishes swimming all around her. She looked on in awe, not even noticing Harry capturing a photo of the moment.

“That’s a tiger shark,” she breathed out, pointing it out to Harry.

“That’s Tank,” he shares.

“Will she be released soon?” Y/N hears Harry sigh and knows that won’t be the case for Tank. “What happened?”

“They found him young, and his dorsal fin was cut off. Most sharks can survive without it over time, but he was so young that he was seen as prey, not a predator.”

“He isn’t bothered by the other fish?”

Harry guides Y/N to sit down, letting her continue to marvel at the ocean life around her. “We let him roam, then he returns to his own tank. He’s respectful because he isn’t the best hunter, but we’ve seen he loves his space.”

“I’ve always liked sharks. Feel like they’re misunderstood.”

Harry laughs loud and rich, making Y/N smile, knowing she’s the reason he’s laughing. “That’s one way to put it.”

“Come on, they’re a feared animal due to movies or shark bites. There’s a 1 in 7 million chance you’ll get bitten or die from a shark attack. You have a higher chance of getting taken out by the flu.” She tells him as Harry removes the silver food cover to reveal a plate of chili tofu and a rainbow pasta salad.

“You’re right,” he agrees. Harry is constantly in awe around Y/N, finding new ways to be surprised by her, whether it be her beauty or intelligence. “Hope you enjoy the food. I know you mentioned being a fan of tofu.”

“Oh, it smells delicious. Is this from a restaurant nearby?”

Harry ducks his head to hide the blush on his face, “no, uh-I-I made it.”

Y/N widens her eyes in surprise as she takes her first bite. Harry watches as she chews, not looking away from him even when she reaches for her drink.

“Thoughts?” He asks.

She giggles, “it’s amazing.”

Harry tries his best not to look too smug, but he knows he’s failing because his mother always told him the way to someone’s heart was through their stomach, and for her to be a fan of his food means he was a step in the right direction. He wishes he had called his mother more for advice because he knows if he had talked to her about Y/N, he wouldn’t have messed it up so many times.

“Right, Harry. You’ve got to tell me about the time you fell into the waste bins.”

Harry gasps in shock. It’s a story only a few knew around here, “when did Sally have the time to spill these lies?”

Y/N laughs, not at all surprised he was quick to deny the story. “Fine. You can tell me how the dolphins wouldn’t accept your treats.”

“Now, that’s not fair. They’re spilling all my secrets.”

Y/N enjoyed dinner with Harry. He was easy to talk with, never once cutting her off and always having his gaze on her. There wasn’t a moment she thought she had lost him, not even when she rambled on about evaluation reports she had to sit through every few months. She always seemed to do the data cleaning because no one had figured out how to use the template she provided, even with all the lessons she gave each employee.

Harry assured her after dinner that there was no need to clean up, that he had it handled. She agreed and let Harry walk her out, where they got the most gorgeous sunset view behind the trees. Sally waved them goodbye making Y/N promise to come back even if it wasn’t with Harry. Y/N promised she would; she had seen a flyer on the bulletin about rescues they have every other weekend when they open it up for volunteers in training, and Y/N wanted to make time to come out for one of those dates.

The drive home is filled with aimless chatter as Harry tries to learn about Y/N. He’s surprised by how much she’s actually willing to share, but he’s not one to question it. He likes answering her as well. He doesn’t think he’s told someone his favorite cereal choice in years; no one has ever wanted to know something so irrelevant, yet Y/N made his answer feel special. His past girlfriends were into materialistic items, not that Harry minded, but conversations always dulled if they did not involve the newest fashion trends or famous designers.

“I didn’t take you as a Lorde fan,” Y/N tells Harry as she sees him singing along to one of the artist's newer songs.

Harry turns to face her for a moment before turning back to the road, “what did you expect then?”

“Hmmm….you really appreciate Jazz and love any piano piece, so I assumed Joni Mitchell, Carole King, oh, and Van Morrison.”

“Wow! You take me for an oldy, Y/N,” he gasps.

“Tell me I’m wrong.”

He shakes his head, laughing, “can’t do that.”

“Knew it,” she celebrated.

“What about you?” Harry turns the question back to her.

“I want to hear what you think.”

“That’s a lot of pressure,” he tells her honestly.

Harry racks his brain, trying to picture the type of music Y/N would listen to. He’s never really thought about it, but she seems the type to love melancholy songs or love songs that you can’t help but sing at the top of your lungs.

“You’re a Spice Girls fan.”

Y/N laughs fill the car, and Harry wishes he could store it in his memory forever; he knows he’ll never hear another sweeter sound. “Who isn’t, Harry?”

“Fine, you’re a Taylor Swift fan. You love those romance songs, and maybe Lana Del Rey. She’s got that unique voice.”

She takes in his response for a second, “I mean, you’d find them both on my playlists absolutely, but they wouldn't be top five on my Spotify wrapped.”

Harry chuckles, not surprised he was wrong, “well, who is it then?”

Y/N grins, taking Harry’s phone that was sitting on the console. Harry hears her typing away then a familiar beat fills the car, and she is quick to join the lead singer in singing.

“Paramore,” he states.

“Paramore,” she repeats. “They’re amazing,” she shrugs, “I’ve always seen them have fun with their music, and I love that.”

“My friend’s a co-writer with them on their new album,” Harry shares nonchalantly.

“Shut up!” Y/N yells.

“What?”

“Oh! That’s amazing! Ugh, I’m so jealous. I’ve always aspired to be Hayley Williams.”

Harry has never seen Y/N be more her age than right now as she gushes over a band she loves. He’s always seen her serious and professional, and he likes that side of her, but laidback Y/N is just as sweet. Harry can feel her creeping into his heart.

He’s disappointed when the GPS announces they’re right outside her home. He did not want the date to end. Harry knows he went about everything wrong with Y/N, but he hopes he can get a real chance with her after tonight. Y/N lets him walk her up, his hand on the small of her back. She’s fumbling with her keys stuck in her bag's zipper; he watches on, amused, until she flashes him a slight grin to show she’s got them.

“Thank you for today, Harry.”

“Of course, Y/N.”

“Would–”

Harry cuts her off, having almost forgotten an essential part of tonight, “forgot to hand you the check.” He chuckles, reaches into his coat, and slips out a folded check. He didn’t see Y/N’s face fall as if finally remembering the reason she went on the date tonight.

Y/N looks down at the check and knows that as meaningful as the date was for her, it was still a debt to be paid.

“Goodnight, Harry.”

Harry doesn’t know what happened in a matter of seconds, but he doesn’t want the night to end on a heavy note, so he shares something weighing heavy on his chest. “I like you, Y/N,” he breathes out. He doesn’t let her answer. “I'll see you soon.”

Y/N watches Harry walk away, leaving her more confused than ever.

+

Harry was shopping for a gift. It was his niece’s birthday in a few days, and he knew that at eight, Abigail had become a big reader, what better gift than a few of his favorite books, as well as a year membership that allows her to get a new book each week. He was browsing a shelf when he froze, seeing someone at the end of the aisle reading a book. He didn’t expect to see Y/N so soon. She looked beautiful. Her hair was in a ponytail, a ribbon holding it all together. It seemed fitting for her. He didn’t expect to see her so soon after their date.

He didn’t know what to say or if he should say anything at all. It’s clear the date went well, at least to him, but when they said goodbye, he felt a shift. It was awful to realize, but Harry was nervous about approaching her. He wished he had a percent of confidence like he did going into corporate meetings, where he always owned the room the second he walked in. Yet, ten seconds in the presence of Y/N, he feels nervous and forgets every word in the English language.

After finally deciding not to approach her and instead head straight to the register, Y/N tucks the book under her arm and turns to find Harry right in front of her. He sees the surprise settle on her face, and he knows he needs to leave. Abigail’s presents can wait. He pretended he didn’t see Y/N and acted like it didn't break his heart to see her smile fall. Instead, he walked right past her like he wasn't hurting her or himself. He knew he was ruining his chances with Y/N, romantic and platonic.

Y/N stood in her spot, frozen. Harry brushed past her like they had not gone out on a “date” two nights ago. As if he didn’t tell her he wanted it to be an actual date that he “liked” her. It was a bunch of bullshit to toy with her feelings, but Y/N has decided she’s had enough. There will be a gala this coming weekend, and she’s decided he no longer deserves a minute of her time.

+

Harry was uneasy, arriving at the gala tonight. He hoped to find Y/N immediately because how they last saw each other left a bad taste in his mouth. He was done with these games. He didn’t care about anything else, not when all he wanted was Y/N, but first, he owed her an apology.

He spotted Y/N right away. He had come to learn that where the conversation was loud and joyful, that is where he would find her. She seemed to be the shining light of every event, as everyone who spoke to her always left with a dazed smile. It’s as if she bewitched them, and Harry knows he’s fallen under her spell as well, and he never wants it to end.

He could see she was guiding a conversation with ease. He took the time to admire her dress; her gowns never failed to leave him breathless, as if each one was perfectly made just for her. Tonight she wore a prune midi dress with a crew neckline and what Harry recognized as cap sleeves. The button detailing falls off-center, allowing the dress to give more shapes to areas of desire. The slit on her dress seemed to lie higher than other dresses he’s seen her wear, and he wished he was lucky enough to know what she had under.

Harry joins the group, pardoning for the interruption and addressing the group before letting his gaze rest on Y/N, who he sees standing close to the gentleman next to her. After a few seconds of staring at her, he can see where her arm is hooked in the crook of the man next to her.

He does his best to hide the shock. Seeing her at an event with someone else, let alone another man, doesn't feel real.

She always came alone.

Now here she was, smiling brightly with the man laughing at each joke she told.

“Mr. Styles,” she’s grinning, and it hurts to know he’s back to that formal name, no longer Harry. The reason she’s happy is because of the gentleman she’s proudly showing off by having him at her arm.

“Y/N,” his voice was low and defeated.

“This is–”

“Excuse me, will you–”  he interrupts before she can introduce her date. He was a fool for thinking he had a chance; he rejected her and bought a date. For fuck’s sake, he really screwed everything up. He heads to the bar hoping to drink away the time.

Y/N isn’t one to allow someone to walk all over her, but it seemed there always was an exemption to the rule, and for her, it was Harry Styles. He’s been insufferable from the moment she introduced herself to him, but she found him charming. She took a shot, and it didn’t land. That was fine. Their date was good but nothing more, not when it wasn’t real.

Tonight when she wanted to present Mr. Styles to her brother-in-law, Isaac, he didn’t give her a chance to speak. He was a real piece of work. As much as she didn’t want to believe all the rumors she was starting to hear about Mr. Styles, they were getting harder to deny, especially when he brushed her aside in almost every meeting they had.

“You alright, Y/N?” Isaac asks, escorting her away from two fellow donors who promised a check of $20,000 and over to the open bar on the other side of the room.

Y/N sighs. There’s no point in lying. “That’s Harry,” she muttered.

Isaac gasps, “no, the handsome guy who glared at me from the moment he walked in and saw you at my side.”

“The very one.” She doesn’t seem to pick up on the last bit of his sentence.

“He’s handsome,” Isaac states.

“And he knows it.”

“I thought you said he wasn’t a douche,” Isaac questions her, confused. “Or Matias said he hadn’t been.”

“You both gossip too much,” Y/N accepts the whiskey he hands her and takes a sip before hammering it all back.

“Taking it back to the old days, I see,” he teases.

“Piss off. You and my brother did much worse, if I recall.”

Isaac scoffs, “Matias and I were the perfect children. Don’t care what you say.”

“Your mother’s front door says otherwise,” Y/N reminds him.

“That’s not fair. You and Sapra took the car up to Bristol for the weekend.”

“With permission,” you remind him.

He scoffs, accepting anything whiskey from the bartender. “How have you two always been the favorites?”

“Because we didn’t fall in love with each other.”

“You’re a wanker!” Isaac nudges her side, careful to not spill her second drink.

Y/N laughs, leaning her head onto her brother-in-law's shoulder. She always has the best time with him. It’s the reason she asked him to come with her tonight, also because her brother asked for her help to get him out of the house to allow him to bring in and hide Isaac’s birthday gifts that he somehow always managed to find each year.

Isaac helps Y/N work the room. She had forgotten how much fun it was to hang out with Isaac. He seemed to always be a package deal with her brother, not that she minded but spending time with him reminded her how much he always made her laugh.

“He’s watched you all night,” Isaac informs her after returning with a new drink from the bar Y/N, having walked away from Daniel, a cold stone CEO who turned into a giant teddy bear promising a check of $10,000 after a five-minute conversation with Y/N.

Y/N shrugs him off, “I’m over it.”

“Sure, babes.”

Y/N scoffs, “I am.”

“You want to be under him, not over him,” Isaac tells her, not at all falling for her charade.

“But he’s been a dick.”

“I think he’s intimated.”

“Of?” Y/N questions.

“You, dummy.” Isaac gestures to Harry, who’s standing next to a few other men clearly in charge of the conversation, but he doesn’t seem to care because he glances at her every few minutes. “He’s probably never met a woman who’s asked him out to get to know him. Maybe he thought you were only trying to sleep with him.”

What Isaac is saying makes no sense to her, but maybe he has a point. Maybe Harry didn’t know her intentions, and that’s why he told her no, it doesn’t explain his other actions, but it is a start.

“Enough.” She’s tired of discussing Harry and would rather head home now before Harry gains the courage to approach her. “ I’m going to the restroom, and you’re getting my coat. I know a good place to eat.”

“You paying?” Isaac teases.

“Yes, you little diva.”

Isaac presses a loud kiss to her cheek, sending her off with a slap to her ass, “off you go.”

Y/N rolls her eyes at his dramatics but goes off to do her business. She was feeling hungry tonight. Leaving the restroom, Y/N bumps into someone waiting right outside. She laughs as the person helps her straighten out.

“Haha, sorry there.” She really should be more careful.

“You okay?”

Y/N freezes. Of course, it’s him.

“All good,” she assures Harry.

“Good.”

She stands there awkwardly, waiting to see if he would say anything, but he stays silent.

“If you’ll excuse me,” she moves past him.

“Y/N, wait.”

She looks at him expectantly.

He sighs, and he runs his hand through his hair, a tell sign he’s nervous. “I’m sorry. I shouldn't have ignored you. I was having a bad day and didn’t want to bother you.”

“Wasn’t so hard, huh, to let someone know you see them but didn’t have time to talk.”

He shakes his head, “not at all.”

“Hmm…”

“I’m sorry. I can’t say it enough.”

Y/N shrugs. “Well, it’s done, I guess. We don’t owe each other anything.”

Harry deserves her hesitancy. He hasn’t been good to her, but he misses seeing her smile and laugh at his awful jokes.

“Ready to go home, babes?” Isaac calls from behind Harry, holding up her coat.

She holds back a smile shaking her head at Isaac, who has a Cheshire grin. Harry looks at her like he wants her to say no, that she’ll stay with him, but she’s had enough of his games.

“Good night, Mr. Styles.”

“Y/N,” he reaches for her hand but stops. They both stare at his arm, having stopped inches from touching her until he drops it back to his side.

“Take care.”

Harry nods as he watches another man drape her coat around her, then place a hand on the small of her back and guide her out.

He really had no chance now.

+

Y/N loved ice cream.

When she was younger, her parents loved taking her out for ice cream after any kind of academic achievement, wanting to shower her with praise just as much as they did her brother, a star athlete. She loved coming because she got to pick a new flavor each week and also how they found out she was allergic to pistachio.

Growing up close in age, many thought she and Matias would not get along, but that was not the case being the younger sister allowed her to see her brother in a guiding light. She loved following after him at least she did until he pushed her down the last few steps of stairs for breaking his favorite crayon. He broke her arm, which she was allowed to hold over his head forever.

He was the reason she had to learn to write with her left hand. Their parents thought they would hate each other after that fight, but it only brought them closer together. Matias realized how fragile his sister was and vowed never to hurt her or anyone again. It's why he became a swimmer. No actual harm would come to him or anyone while Y/N gained the strength to stand up for herself, not wanting to be seen as weak.

As much as Matias denies it, his heart broke when Y/N met Sapra, her best friend, because it meant he was losing her as his best friend, something he’d never dare tell her. Sapra walking into Y/N’s life was amazing because it made her glad she had a brother because it meant she could have Sapra as the sister she never had. From the day they partnered in English for a project, Sapra being the new student and Y/N the star student, they did not go a day without each other. They became part of each other’s families and officially became sisters thanks to the help of their brother by falling in love and getting married.  Now here she was for her weekly ice cream date with Sapra.

“He didn’t!” Sapra gasps as Y/N explains how Isaac cut off Harry and escorted her out like a true gentleman.

Y/N nods, licking her caramel vanilla ice cream. “Yup, he looked like a kicked puppy.”

“Oh, that’s devastating.”

“It was.”

“I thought you liked him.”

She shrugs, “he’s all mixed signals. I ask him out, and he says no. I’m auctioned as a date he buys me. The next time I see him, he ignores me.”

“Maybe he didn’t see you.”

Y/N gives her a deadpan look. “We stopped right in front of each other. Had a book in hand, and he had a coffee. I waved, gave him a smile, and took a step towards him, and he stared past me and then walked past me.”

“Right…” Sapra realized there was no bright side to her situation.

“I seriously don’t get his problem. If this man says he’s doing all that because he likes me, I’ll call bullshit.”

Sapra sighs, “maybe he likes you but doesn’t like how forward you are. Maybe he’s into sweet innocent girls.”

“Ugh, this is why I don’t date. I seriously thought he’d be mature for being older. Seems all that money has clogged his brain.”

Y/N watches as her best friend laughs.

“Speak of the devil,” Sapra gestures behind Y/N, and she does her best to bite back a groan.  

“Noooo,” she groans. “This is my favorite shop.”

Harry notices Sapra staring at him and shoots her a polite smile. “He saw me.”

“He doesn’t know you.”

They decide to ignore him, and it works. Sapra finished her ice cream, and Y/N excused herself to the restroom claiming they had a few more stops before ending their day together. Y/N returns from the bathroom just in time to see Harry standing in front of Sapra, a cup of ice cream in his hand. As she gets closer, she meets Sapra’s eyes which are telling her to stop, but she doesn’t listen, able to catch Harry’s final words.

“--love to take you on a date.”

She’s not sure what to feel. Instead, she doesn’t let an inch of emotion show as she says excuse me taking her seat in front of Sapra again. Y/N sees the exact moment Harry’s face falls as he recognizes her. Then back to Sapra, the person she told him about on their so-called date.

“Y/N,” he breathed out.

“Mr. Styles,” she addressed him coldly. “See, you met my best friend, Sapra. We’ve spoken about her.”

He clears his throat, evident in the growing tension. Y/N’s expressions stay neutral while Sapra looks at Y/N, smirking.

“Well, Mr. Styles, as flattered as I am. The answer is going to be no.” Sapra shrugs, no longer meeting his eyes.

Harry fidgets with his rings, his discomfort apparent, “no, I understand.”

“Heard you met my brother. He’s a real charmer.” Sapra tells him.

“Sorry?”

“At the gala,” Sapra reminds him. “He was Y/N’s date. Think they make a great pair.”

Harry frowns, feeling his skin itch.

Y/n decides to end his suffering. “Isaac is Matias’ husband. My brother, I told you about him.”

“The older brother who painted your mum's wagon pink,” he checks to confirm.

“The very one.”  

“Have a nice day,” Sapra tells him harshly, cutting off the conversation from going any further.

“Good day.” Not an ounce of confidence in his walk. If anything, Y/N thought he looked sad.

Both girls watched him walk away until he was outside and in his car. Y/N isn’t sure what to say, but she can’t say she blames Harry. All through their time in school together, Sapra was the person all the boys asked out. While Y/N was the person, they went to for advice, not that she ever helped them. It wasn’t until she was at university did she realize she didn’t care what others thought. Y/N started working on her self-confidence, and she blossomed. When she first asked a boy in her English class, and he said yes, she felt empowered. She took that energy and put it into her work ethic. It’s why she’s so successful today. She will admit it hurt seeing Harry ask out her best friend, but it also helps put things into perspective that Harry Styles might not be the man she thought he was.

+

Harry is an idiot.

He has one girl on his mind, and to take his mind off her, he asks another out, only for it to be her friend, her best friend of all people. He really screwed this one up.

“You haven’t called me in a while,” Harry’s friend Mitch says as he sips his bourbon.

“I’ve been busy,” Harry mutters.

“Hmm…”

The two men sit in silence. It’s something they have always done. They are not ones to express their feelings unless they need to.

“What shit did you do now?” Mitch asks as he sees Harry pour his third cup of bourbon.

“Shit, Mitch. You don’t beat around the bush, do you?” Mitch gives him a pointed look, and Harry relents. “There’s this girl.”

“That’s a first.”

“As I was saying, she—she’s beautiful. And so god damn out of my league, I don’t know what to do with myself. I’m fucking 33, and she has me acting like a teenager.”

“Ask her out, simple as that.”

Harry laughs bitterly. “No, Mitch, it isn’t. See, she asked me out, and I said no.”

Mitch winces, “ouch. Bruised her ego.”

“No, that's the thing. She acted unbothered and treated me with respect after.”

He knows he’ll regret that rejection for the rest of his life.

“What were you expecting? A drink in the face.”

He shakes his head, “course not.”

“Why is she a problem if you rejected her?” Mitch emphasizes.

“Because every time I see her, I feel my heart wanting to beat out of my chest. I see her speaking with another man too close, and I get jealous. Hell, I bet on an auction date with her, but I fucked it over by ignoring her the next time I saw her. And today, I was finally working up the chance to go out on a date to get her out of my head, and the person I asked out turned out to be her best friend, and she was right there.” Harry slumped back against his chair, bourbon now forgotten.

Mitch grimaces, “that doesn’t sound great.”

“It’s all shit.”

“Backtrack. Why did you reject her?”

Harry groans because he’d been a fool to say no. He thought he was too old for her or that she was looking for some fun in the sheets, and he wouldn’t disrespect her like that, not when he admired her. “She’s young.”

“Eighteen young?”

“No, you dick.” Harry spits out harshly.  “She’s in graduate school. She’s in her twenties.”

Mitch sits back on the couch, frowning.

“Spit it out.”

“It seems you made a mess of things for no reason.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well,” Mitch takes a sip of his drink, getting all his thoughts together. “She asked you out, meaning you didn’t seek her out. If I recall, you said she knew your name.” Harry nods, and Mitch continues. “It means she was aware of your age difference. She had an idea of her chances being slim to none to you saying yes. She came in with the upper hand, but you carried the power with your response. You’re going about your feelings all wrong. If you’re not going to treat her like she knows she deserves, then leave her alone.”

Once Mitch had laid it all flat for Harry, he could see that Mitch had a point. She knew what she wanted from the moment they met, which intimated Harry for some reason. She sent him the drink, asked him out, and reached out while he hid and avoided. She held herself with grace and respect, and that somehow intimated him.

He wanted a chance with Y/N to prove to her he could be a gentleman, and he valued her time and respected her. He just had to find the right opportunity. His eyes flickered to the ripped invitation on his desk. An invitation to a Masquerade Ball in two weeks to support Global Warming. He knew who would be there. It was the perfect time to apologize and ask for a date, a real one this time.

+

Y/N hated being sick.

From a young age, she threw the biggest fuss when she would fall in and had to miss school. She told her parents that missing out on learning would ruin her life when she didn’t want her friends to forget her for the days she was gone. Given that when she would go back, she received big hugs; clearly, she was not forgotten.

Now, as an adult or graduate student living alone in her small but entirely her own apartment, she didn’t like to be sick, not when she had to work or had events to attend. Thankfully, Y/N’s work has always been flexible and has health benefits, so she can take the day off. The sad news is that there’s a gala, not one of hers this time, that she promised she’d attend with Sapra. The theme was masquerade, and Sapra had worked on her mask for ages wanting to stand out during the night, and Y/N couldn’t bear to disappoint her. Sapra had been looking forward to this night for ages, even writing it with a pen in her calendar, and she never did that in case plans changed. Y/N felt horrible, but thankfully Sapra was super understanding, and their good friend Dawn was able to come in and save the day. With the promise to send Y/N lots of pictures, they left her with soup and crackers to last her the next few days while she began to feel better.

Harry had been counting down the days to see her. He hoped he was able to spot her among all the people tonight because if not, he’d be asking every person in the room to remove their masks until he found her. He had decided on a gold mask with intricate black designs all around. His dear friend Alessandro took his time with it. He knew he’d take it back to his friend after it was too much of a delicate piece to keep for himself. He knew he would have no use for it after. His suit tonight was velvet, a deep black that held a shimmer in the right kind of lighting. Harry loved the little details in outfits, and he couldn’t wait to notice each one of Y/N’s tonight.

He must have walked around three times and nothing. Not a single citing of her. Harry decides to stop at the bar when a woman in a gorgeous red gown drops her mask, and Harry gasps. It was not Y/N; it was her best friend, Sapra. That meant Y/N had to be around here somewhere.

“Good evening, Sapra.” Harry interrupts her conversation with the short woman next to her. She’s in a yellow gown, one that reminds him of Kate Hudson’s in her iconic role in How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days. He recognizes her as Bartolo’s worker in the shop. He hadn’t been there since Alessandro came back from his trip. “And Dawn, it’s nice to see you again.”

Dawn flashes him a smile. “You as well, Harry. Bartolo misses you. Says no one comes in to challenge him like you did.”

Harry nods, “I’ll have to visit soon, then.” Sapra elbows Dawn as if reminding her they weren’t team Harry. He notices, and before giving them a chance to make their exit, he asks the question that’s been sitting on the tip of his tongue. “Where’s Y/N?”

Sapra and Dawn share a look before turning back to Harry, matching frowns on their faces. “Girl code, Mr. Styles,” Sapra tells him, voice full of distaste.

“Please, I know I don’t deserve it, but I want to speak with her,” he begs.

Dawn takes pity, having heard Harry bare his heart to Bartolo when he came in for a suit fitting about how nervous Y/N made him and that his confidence seemed to vanish around her. She thought it was a step in the right direction to ask them about Y/N despite his first meeting with Sapra.

“She’s sick,” Dawn shares, not caring that Sapra will give her shit for it later.

He frowns. She’s sick, and she’s alone. That doesn’t sound like a good evening. “Will she answer if I go?”

“You’re kidding?” Sapra asks.

Harry shakes his head, “please, I only came tonight in hopes of seeing her.”

Sapra turns around at the bar to speak with the bartender, and he gives her a napkin and a pen. She clicks the pen and turns around, handing it to Harry. He didn’t tell them he knew where she lived.

“She tells me you said something dumb, and I’ll make sure to burn your empire to the ground,” Sapra promises. Dawn whispers for her to cool it, but Harry understands where she’s coming from.

“Do you know when that restaurant closes down the block from her house? She told me she really likes their soup there.”

Sapra shared a look with Dawn. Yeah, it seemed that Harry had some feelings to sort through.

Harry takes a deep breath. He isn’t sure if she’ll let him in or even want to see him. If it were him, he’d take one look and slam the door shut. Well, he won’t know until he finds out. He knocks two times and takes a step back, allowing himself to look down at her doormat. There is a range of wildflowers displayed, and if Harry’s honest, he has no idea what their names could be. As Harry focuses on anything but the door, he fails to realize it has fallen open.

“Harry?” She whispers, confused.

Harry lifts his head, flashing her a smile. “Hi, how are you?”

She ignores his questions. “How are you here?” Y/N shakes her head. “Don’t answer that. I bet it was Dawn; she’s a softie.”

“Do–Would it be okay if I came in?” He stutters.

Y/N tilts her head and looks his head to toe in his velvet suit, his mask forgotten in his car. She knows this is weird and has a right to kick him out, but he’s carrying a bag, and Y/N can smell the hot vegetable soup she craves when she’s sick.

She moves back, and Harry takes it as a sign to come in. He lets out a sign in relief. While Y/N locks the door, he toes off his shoes, noticing the shoe rack by the door. Y/N thanks him quietly, and he follows after like a lost puppy. She grabs two bowls while Harry begins to unpack the food. He wasn’t sure how much she would like, and Kim, the waitress, suggested two of their largest sizes, and he agreed.

Harry takes the bowl from Y/N and begins to serve her a healthy amount, knowing if she has too much, she could end up puking it all up.

“Thank you, Harry.”

She grabs her bowl and heads to her couch. As she settles in wrapping herself in a blanket, she sets the bowl on her lap. Harry stays frozen in the kitchen, unsure if he’s allowed in her space.

“Are you going to make me eat alone?”

“Sorry?” He breathes out.

“Serve yourself and come sit. You brought me so much soup I’m not going to finish it all on my own”

Harry grabs the second bowl, notices the strawberries, and laughs. He likes getting to see more pieces of Y/N. From her linked shoes at the door, he can tell she’s organized. As he walks further into her living room, he sees a full bookcase with hundreds of books and a little reading nook with a stack of books waiting to be read. He sits at the other end of her couch, sinking into the comfortable cushion; he smiles at her record player and wonders what she last listened to.

“Do you want a blanket?”

He sighs. Y/N’s a sweetheart treating him kindly, accepting him as a guest in her home. “Thank you, but I’m okay.”

They settle into silence, and usually, Harry finds it annoying, always needing a conversation to be going even if he isn’t leading it. However, with Y/N, he relishes the silence because he enjoys her presence. No words are needed.

Y/N ate until she was full, meaning she left her bowl clean, not embarrassed to have Harry see her slurp the last bits of her soup. Harry refilled her water as he placed her rinsed dishes in her dishwasher.

“How was the gala?” She asks after he settles back in his seat.

“Awful,” he answers honestly. It was the truth, he knew Y/N prided herself in the work she did for each event, but he couldn’t lie to her.

Y/N frowns, “good means I didn’t miss anything important.”

He’s surprised she had no hand in the event, but if he thinks about it, each gala he has been in attendance of where Y/N has helped always went without a hitch. He can’t say the same about tonight. “You didn’t plan this event?”

She smiles at his shock. “Not this time. Sapra heard it was a masquerade ball and begged me to get her in. How were the ice sculptures?”

Harry laughs, “melting, a puddle of water all around.”

“Oh, bummer.” She shakes her head, upset she missed it. “They have awful AC in that building.”

Y/N proceeds to tell him about how they reached out, but she’s had a busy schedule, and as much as she loves her job, she’s still only an intern who needs time for her studies and herself.

“Is that why you fell sick? Overworking?” He asks, concerned.

She giggles, “no, I have a healthy work and life balance, thankfully.” Y/N’s phone rings interrupting her. She apologizes as she’s sending off a text before giving her attention back to him. “My neighbor Terry has a one-year-old, and I was babysitting her for the night. We didn’t know she had the sniffles until she woke up colicky from a nap. Turns out their bub was sick; thus, she gave me the bug that took me down.”

“How’s the bub doing?”

“Oh, she’s a fighter. She was not a big crier; she needed a few cuddles and medicine, and she was much better. The thing about babies: they get sick and are better the day after. Their bodies next time around will have now built a strong immune system able to fend it off even better.” Y/N feels her face flush, feeling she shared a bit too much.

Harry sends her a dimpled smile. “My little sister is having a baby in a few months. I think it’s essential to know how to help. Thank you, don’t think parenting books are always so helpful for uncles.”

Y/N can’t hide her grin at Harry’s confession. “Oh, that’s lovely, Harry. Send her my best. I have a link for the best stroller, and I mean the best. It's easy to fold even when she might be on her own. I’ll send it your way.”

Before Harry can thank her, a ding rings loud, and it’s his phone signaling, he’s received her message. “I appreciate it. It’ll make a good gift.”

Her eyes widened, seeing the stroller's price.  “Do you need a discount? I got lots of coupons for this website.” She offers.

Harry is surprised she offered. She must know he’s well off. A stroller that costs a few hundred bucks won’t make a dent in his bank account.

“Sent it anyway,” Y/N tells him. “It’s good for six months.”

“Thank you.”

Y/N grins, happy to be useful even when sick.

Harry takes in her tired eyes and knows he’s taken too much of her time. Instead of letting her rest, he made her stay up when she could have been sleeping.

“I feel like I have overstayed my welcome,” Harry stands up, offering her a sheepish grin.

“No–” she’s cut off by a yawn.

She laughs, rubbing her eye, trying to will the sleep away. “I’m sleepy when I’m sick.”

“Thank you for letting me in.”

“Thanks for the soup,” she counters.

Y/N walks him to the door, the blanket wrapped over her as she tries to keep herself warm. “Will you be alright alone?” He checks, not wanting to leave her alone if she gets worse while sleeping.

She notes his concern, and Y/N knows she can tell him it doesn’t concern him, but he did come out of his way to check on her. “Dawn promised she’s on her way here to give me cuddles. I'm a big baby when I’m sick. Get all clingy.”

Harry can imagine her lying on his chest, blankets up to her neck as he holds her close, rubbing her back. Warm tea and soup at hand to make sure she’s eating. He would love to care for her, but that would be crossing a line. Neither of them were ready for all because of Harry’s stupidity.

“Y/N, before I go, I wanted to apologize. I–It seems every interaction with you, I only seem to leave a bad impression. I genuinely think you’re an amazing person and felt lucky to take you on a date, but after ignoring you, I feel I keep messing everything up. Will–is it okay to call you my friend, or if we can take a step in that direction.”

She knows there’s no possible way they could be friends, not with the chemistry they have together, but Y/N appreciates where he’s coming from.

“Friends it is, Styles.”

“Friends,” he confirms.

And maybe something more.

+

It had been a month since Harry saw Y/N sick in her apartment. He texted her the morning after, and she promised she was doing better; her headache was gone. She teased him about the soup, saying it was the abundance of soup that cured her. He felt a flutter in his stomach at the fact that Y/N thought he was helpful. God, he was really head over heels for her, but they were friends. Friends that texted and sent photos of things that reminded them of each other (Harry was on the receiving end of most images. He did practice his use of emojis for her).

Y/N was going through exams and focusing on the internal work of her internship, as in paperwork and the hiring process to take her on after graduation. She let him know she was still considering her options, but Y/N knew she would be saying yes because the pay was well above what she went in asking for, and she had a healthy work environment. It made him happy to see how well things were going for her. It made him want to invite her to tour his office. He wanted to see her sit in his office chair as she looked at the view of the city.

Wake and Wonder were holding a gala to raise money for their new NICU ward. Harry was part of the board for this event and knew Y/N would be attending, having heard her name throughout the night from the guests. Over the last few months, Harry began to see the importance of these events and attending, most of the guests were snobby and stuck up, but every person working for their organization cared. They were working hard for others and not for their own gain. Harry might have it easy to write checks, so if he can give back, he will.

Tonight, Harry decided to be a bit bold. He left the velvet suit behind and wore a pink Alexander McQueen suit. A double-breasted jacket featured pink embroidered flowers with green stems and leaves down the front. He paired it with matching wide-leg trousers, a white button-down, and black boots. He felt confident in all his suits, but this one was special. It was the first suit he bought himself when he got his first client that would change his life. He knew it brought him luck, and he needed a bit of that tonight.

Every woman he encountered tonight had on a full-out gown. It seemed they were, for once, following the theme to a t. Harry was nursing an amaretto sour when a glimmer of yellow floated by in the corner of his eye. It seemed he wasn’t the only one whose attention was caught. The person went straight to Alexander, the host for the night. He looked elegant in a black suit with gold embroidery around the jacket sleeves and down the front that connected to look like constellations. His partner wore something similar, opting for a deep blue to bring out his eyes, the gold embroidery found coming up his sleeves ending right below his elbows. Harry knew they had an eye for design and liked when they hosted events. The two men hugged her, thanking her. He didn’t realize he had gotten closer until he was able to pick up her voice.

It was angelic. It was familiar. It was Y/N.

She was wearing an elegant yellow satin gown. It had a princess silhouette with puffy short sleeves. He could see the corset back from the few feet away he stood. He knows Dawn must have had to help her, and for some reason, he can’t take the idea out of his head of helping her loosen the corset and out of the dress. It’s a fantasy he needs to push away as Y/N happens to be coming his way.

“Ms. Y/LN,” he greets with a gentle smile.

“Mr. Styles,” she flashes him a bashful grin and makes her way across the venue to mingle with the guest.

Progress. 

That was progress. She offered him a gorgeous smile, one he knew would stay imprinted in his mind forever. Now, all he needs is to gain some courage. Throughout the evening, Y/N danced around him. It’s as if she could sense him coming and would shift in another direction, allowing them both to get tangled in conversation. Harry did not like the chase, but Y/N held all the power in her hands, and he’d do anything for a moment of her time.

Harry was tired, not of Y/N playing a game of mouse with him but of the event. Usually, he spends an hour at most and then heads home, but tonight he’s two hours in, and he’s tired of all the talks and acting like he isn’t dying to speak with Y/N, but he respects her, and he’s been an idiot for too long to ruin the foundation they have created.

He was watching couples on the dance floor, criticizing their waltz. Many were lost in conversation to remember the importance of holding their partner close and letting one person lead.

“Mr. Styles,” Y/N greets with a cheeky grin. He doesn’t hide his surprise as he looks away from the dance floor. He takes her in, admiring her shining eyes and perfect makeup.

“Hi,” he breathes out. “You look beautiful.”

Y/N offers him another smile, a more timid one than her previous one. “Thank you.”

“Would you like to dance?” Harry offers, extending a hand toward Y/N.

She stares at him for a second before placing her hand in his. He led her to the dance floor, his right-hand settling high under her shoulder, his fingers together and pointed down. Her left arm rests softly on his shoulder like a bird perched on a branch. Her hand arched, fingertips behind his shoulder and thumb in front. He feels the lightest touch. Y/N raises her head, meeting his eye as she places the palm of her right hand in the palm of his left, resting her fingers in the cradle between his thumb and forefinger. They both fold their things softly over each other. It’s a light touch, and Harry gets the sense that Y/N is well-versed in the waltz.

“Have you waltzed before, Y/N?” Harry asks as he begins to lead. It’s one of the easiest dances to learn but easy to get lost if a partner is not allowed to lead.

She scoffs, “Surprised?”

He shakes his head. “No, but I am intrigued.”

Y/N laughs, letting Harry lead her around the dance floor. “In undergrad, a few GEs are pointless.” Harry gives her a pointed look. “Come on, Harry. You know what I mean.” The truth is he does. “Anyways, I took a dance class and learned a choreographed dance, tap, salsa, and waltz. That’s only a few.”

Harry nods, impressed, “a woman of many trades, huh.”

She shakes her head because it’s useless talents, but they’re hers. Who knows when one day she might need them, like today, dancing with a handsome man.

“I love this song,” Y/N tells him as he brings her back from a spin. “Moon river makes you feel lost in time.”

Harry agrees, “thank you, Aubrey Hepburn.”

Y/N gasps in surprise, “you know Hepburn?”

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” He teases.

She feels her face flush because he’s right, but Y/N grew up watching these films with her grandmother every Sunday. Some children got taken to church, and Y/N was taught about the best movies to ever exist growing up.

“What’s tonight's theme?” Harry asks Y/N, no longer wanting to dance in silence. He loves her voice.

“Disney, but more specifically, Disney princesses,” she answers with a soft smile.

“And you are?”

She gestures to her dress, the beautiful yellow silk. “Don’t know, Ariel.”

He throws his head back laughing, she teases him with no care, and he loves that he did deserve it. It’s clear what princess she was trying to resemble. “You’re a beauty. You put Belle to shame,” he confesses.

Y/N bites back a grin. “Seeing as she’s an animated character. Thank you.”

Harry’s smile drops, and he falters in his seat, causing Y/N to stumble, but he rights her up like nothing happened. “No, I mean–”

“I know,” she breathes out, giggling at his panic.

As Harry releases the anxiety that passes through him, he goes back to complimenting Y/N. “You fit the role nicely.”

“Does that make you Gaston, my Beast, or Lumiere?” Y/N asks with a smirk.

He doesn’t take the bait.  “Haha, very funny.”

She shrugs, “I try.”

The song is coming to a finish, and Harry wonders how long she’s going to allow him to dance with her. “I’m no prince, but I’d like to be the person who’s able to capture your heart,” he confesses, putting everything out there.

“You’re a poet now?’

Harry smirks, “you don’t take compliments, do you, beauty?”

“I'm not easily swooned,” she confesses.

“I like challenges,” he answers carelessly.

Harry feels her stiffen instantly and knows he’s messed up. In a matter of seconds, he managed to ruin this fun, peaceful energy he had with Y/N.”

“Mr. Styles,” her voice cold and distant. “Thank you for the dance.”

She drops her hands and walks away. Harry reacts quickly. He goes to reach for her but thinks otherwise and instead calls her name.

“No, Y/N, wait, please,” he begs.

She pauses, turning to look at him.

“I shit- you make me incredibly nervous, and I hate that.” She frowns but lets him continue. “You make me question my every thought. Your beauty is overwhelming, and I–I’m older than you. I know that, and the fear of you not liking that or someone saying anything rude to you has stopped me from allowing myself to pursue you. I apologize. I’m so damn sorry.”

“The pursuit ended the minute you said no to me,” she tells him honestly.

“But I-”

She holds her hand up, and he stops talking. “I respect you, Harry. But I also respect myself. I’m not sure what game you’re playing, but I’m not taking any part. It was a wonderful dance, but I’ll be on my way.”

Harry knows she’s right. He’s messed up, but she deserves his honesty. “Y/N, let me say one last thing.”

She gestures for him to go on.

“I know I don’t deserve it. I know I don’t, but would you go on a date with me? No pretense or auction, just you and me where I can get to know you. I’d really love to get to know you.” He asks, putting his heart on the line.

She looks down at her heels, swaying back and forth, and the silence lasts a few seconds, but Harry feels it’s been hours by the time she replies. “Okay,” she agrees.”

“I respect–you will?” He asks, surprised.

She giggles, “I’d love to see you when you’re being charming because, truthfully, as much as I've been enjoying awkward Harry, I’d love to see more. You have my number, and it’s your only chance.”

Harry places his hand over his heart. “I promise I’ll treat you well. Thank you for saying yes.”

Y/N smiles, “I’ll see you soon, Mr. Styles.”

He couldn’t wait to see her for their date.

+

This was his third time standing outside Y/N’s apartment door. This time was different. He felt he could throw up from the nerves. He spoke with his Mum before driving to Y/N’s apartment and shared how he felt nervous about a date. She reminded him he needed to be himself and wear his confidence with pride. It’s something he learned from a young age.

Growing up, he had crazy curls that led to endless teasing, and one day he decided he had enough and got a haircut. He looked in the mirror the following day and didn’t recognize who he was. He let himself be influenced by others, and since then, he decided he wouldn’t care what others said about him. While in uni, he grew out his hair going through the long hair phase that drove his Mum crazy, but his sister loved it as he allowed her to braid it. It’s also when he began getting all his tattoos. Harry had to go through a journey of self-discovery to gain his confidence and keep it.

Tonight, he had confidence, but his biggest worry was Y/N not enjoying the date. All he wants is for her to have a pleasant time with him with no ruse or promise of a check at the end of the night.

Harry knocks twice and waits for her to come to the door. There’s a bouquet of pink roses in his hands because it reminded him of Y/N. He doesn’t know her favorite, but he’ll be sure to ask tonight. Y/N opens the door dressed in what he assumes is her casual wear. She’s got loose jeans and a black button-up she kept open with a white top under. A white ribbon in her hair made her messy bun look perfect. He notices this is another time he sees ribbon in her hair, and he’s curious to see how many strings she has and how many colors. She’s beautiful, and he’d happily remind her every chance he gets tonight.

“Hi, Y/N, you look beautiful.”

Y/N smiles, accepting the flowers he is offering her. The pink roses are beautiful as if there were just cut from the garden. She gestures for him to come in as she grabs a vase from her kitchen. He’s quiet as he watches her work in her kitchen. Once satisfied with how they sit in the vase, she turns her attention back to him.

“Thank you, Harry. It was very sweet of you.”

Harry shrugs, a blush setting on his cheeks. “Anything for you, beauty.”

Y/N’s back is turned to him, not allowing him to see her reaction to the term of endearment. As she grabs her bag and slips it on her shoulder, she offers him a squeeze on his arm, and he takes that as an okay to keep using it. As she’s locking up her door, Harry waits and asks about her day. She shares about having an easy day of classes and how she’s glad she didn’t have to work. Harry opens his car door and helps Y/N into the car. Y/N can see what he means by charming now.

The drive is filled with aimless chatter about the songs Harry is playing and how nice the weather has been lately. Y/N notices they’re headed toward a residential area and not into the city. Harry decides to share what he has planned for them tonight.

“I was thinking we can have a wine and paint night in my backyard if you're up for it.” He runs his free hand through his hair, sparing a look at her before focusing back on the road.

“You want to paint?” She exclaims.

He shrugs, “thought it’d be fun.”

She leans back into her seat, keeping her eyes on Harry as he holds a tight grip on the steering wheel. “I think it sounds perfect.”

Harry sighs in relief, good that’s good.

Arriving at Harry’s house, he feels his nerves coming back because he’s bringing the woman he likes to the place he calls home, where he finds comfort. It’s where he comes back home after a long day of work. He doesn’t know what he’ll feel after seeing her among all his things because he’s sure she’ll be a perfect fit and will struggle to let her go.

Y/N takes in the art pieces he has around the entrance of his house and photos of his family. The credenza by the entrance holds a key bowl where Harry drops his wallet and keys inside. He doesn’t remove his shoes and instead goes through the kitchen's double doors. Y/N isn’t sure if she is supposed to follow him, but a book on his coffee table captures her attention. It’s titled Raising Good Humans. She reads the first page as Harry makes his way back to her with two glasses of wine, one red and one orange.

She places the book down when Harry offers her a choice, and she accepts the orange wine, curious how it might taste. He gestures to the book, “I bought it for my sister, but I realized she probably won’t want to read it all, so I’m highlighting and bookmarking the important sections.”

Y/N hums in surprise. She didn’t take Harry for a caring guy, but here he is, proving her wrong. It’s clear how much he loves his family. “I’m sure she appreciates all the help.”

Harry laughs, “she told me she’s waiting to cash in for all the times I ever embarrassed her.”

“Oh, I understand being the youngest with an older brother. I swear he lived to embarrass me.” She shares that as much as she loved Matias, he was still a pain in her butt at one point in her life.

“Someone needed to look out for her,” he offers. “Come on, it’s out this way.”

His kitchen is gorgeous. The kitchen has color-filled floral wallpaper. There are pops of colors, making the backdrop feel neutral. The cabinets are maroon, closer to pink than red, and the three chairs are muted cyan that sit against the countertop. Y/N can see herself taking a seat there as Harry cooks them dinner. She shakes the thought out of her head and heads out the French patio doors where two easels sit side by side, a small stand in between them to hold their glass of wine and cheese that Harry has set up for them.

“I’m lactose intolerant,” she shares as she eyes the cheese.

Harry’s eyes widen in surprise, and he mutters under his breath. “I’m so sorry. That was insensitive of me not even asking what you would prefer. I have cookies if you’d like. They’re gluten-free though or–”

He cuts himself off when he sees her laughing behind her wine glass, and that’s when he realizes she’s joking. Harry shakes his head, their laughter mixing together in the air.

“I’m sorry,” she mutters.

“You’re cheeky, beauty.”

Y/N sets her finished wine glass down as she sees a black canvas apron with her name embroidered resting on what she assumes is her chair. She lifts it gently, running her finger over the yellow stitching. Harry slips his one, his last name embroidered on his, and she knows these must have been specially ordered. The material feels expensive and as if it were made with great care.

“Harry, this is too much.”

He laughs, “it’s nothing, Y/N. I wanted tonight to be special.”

She slips the top over her head and turns away from her, “can you help me tie the back?”

Harry steps close, standing right behind her, his mouth right by her neck. Y/N feels tense at the close intimacy. She doesn’t hurry Harry; she simply enjoys the closeness he’s offering her.

“All done,” he whispers.

She turns to meet his gaze, his eyes lingering before flickering to her lips. He nods, taking a step back, not wanting to cross any lines with her. He’s letting her set their pace.

“More wine, Beauty?”

“Yes, please. It was so good. It tasted just like an orange.”

Harry knows her lips must taste just as sweet. “It’s a favorite of mine. Glad you like it.”

He fills their wine glasses and comes back to sit next to her. He explains all the materials he has for them and how the painting to recreate is a lighthouse with a night sky background. It looks complex, and Y/N knows if she tries to copy it, it will look nothing like the original.

They began painting in silence. Harry had instrumental music playing and told her she could play what she liked, but she assured him she was enjoying the music. The silence was soon filled with chatter as Y/N asked questions, and Harry happily responded. What jobs did he work growing up? Bakery and a bookstore. If he was a good swimmer? Yes. His worst hangover? His best friend Mitch’s bachelor party in Greece. What he liked to bake? Cherry tarts. The questions never seemed to end because she wanted to know everything, but Harry was the same. He asked about her travels and where she wanted to go in the next year? Amsterdam. Her favorite movie? Pride and Prejudice. Her favorite book? A Thousand Splendid Suns.

Y/N was learning a lot about Harry and wanted to soak it all in, not forgetting anything. The first time she met Harry, she thought he was closed off and stuck up. That he had walls up so high, he’d never let anyone in, but Harry today was charming and kind. He gave her his undivided attention and asked questions wanting to get to know her. Harry was closed off because of his high position and how easily people had walked over him. Y/N had always worn her heart on her sleeve, but tonight with Harry, she wanted to keep it protected, but he made it so easy to give herself away.

“Are you ready, beauty?”

She takes a long look at her finished painting and decides she has no other choice. “Ready,” she breathed out.

Harry and Y/N turn their painting to each other, and Y/N gasps at Harry’s beautiful painting while Harry laughs at hers. Harry managed to draw a perfect resemblance of the lighthouse with the moon shining bright and the water so reflective that she felt if she touched it, her hand would go through the painting. “That’s gorgeous, Harry.”

Harry pointed to Y/N, “what did you draw?”

Y/N pouts, looking down at her painting. It might not be a lighthouse, but she loved what she painted. It’s a mermaid with short brown hair and a flower on their head. The scales of the mermaid’s tail were various shades of yellow, green, and blue. The mermaid was looking away into the deep blue sea background. It was nowhere near perfect, but she loved it. “It’s you,” she tells him. “As a mermaid–or well, merman.”

He points to himself, “that’s me!”

She giggles, proud of herself. “Yes, how I picture you if you were born a mermaid. I reckon you’d be the heir to the throne.”

Harry blushes and knows Y/N can tell. He doesn’t mind because she deserves to see the effect she has on him.

“I think I’d be a good-looking mermaid.”

“You'd be the prettiest mermaid in the sea, no competition.”

Harry giggles, letting the compliment soak in. “If you were there, I imagine I’d have a run for my money, beauty.”

She tucks a loose piece of hair behind her ear. “Harry,” she drags out his name, turning away from him, her smile wide. His dimples pop out as he holds back from teasing her and instead asks if she’s hungry.

“I’d love some pizza,” she tells him honestly.

“Then I’ll get you pizza, beauty. Any preferences for toppings?”

“Love jalapeños.”

“Is pepperoni and jalapeños alright?”

“Perfect, Harry. Thank you.” She leans in to give him a kiss on his cheek. Harry mumbles no worries, his face burning from the sign of affection.

Dinner was delicious, and pizza was the perfect meal to share. Harry wrapped the leftovers and slipped them into a paper bag for Y/N to take home. She argued he should keep it because he paid (she offered, but he refused), but he told her that he remembered life during university, and she couldn’t argue with that logic. Harry drove her home, promising he only had that original cup of wine, and then switched to sparkling water. While Y/N allowed herself to have three glasses, two during the painting session and one during dinner. The drive to her apartment was different than driving to his house. They went from quiet small talk and listening to Harry’s playlists to telling each other their favorite childhood stories.

By the time Harry pulled up to Y/N’s apartment, she had realized that more dates like this with Harry would make her fall deep in love with him. She didn’t know what he was thinking, but a second date sounded perfect. Harry opened her car door and walked her to her door. He handed Y/N her bag and the leftover pizza after she unlocked the door, and she placed the items on her small entrance table. She shut the door, turning to look at Harry and bid him good night. Y/N realized through the night, Harry was careful with his touches and would only reciprocate anything she initiated.

Harry stares at her with a dimpled smile, and she knows that smile will become her weakness.

“My favorite flowers are calla lilies,” she tells him as she leans against her apartment door.

Harry’s eyes open wide in surprise. Does that mean she enjoyed tonight as much as he did? “Does that mean we’re going on a second date?”

She smirks, “I’d be open to the idea.”

He steps towards Y/N, allowing her to stop him, but she doesn’t. Her hands come to rest on his chest. He’s thankful she doesn’t mention the quickening of his heartbeat.

“Is this okay?” He breathes out.

“Mhm…”

Y/N’s hands fist the ends of his open jacket. He doesn’t care if his jacket wrinkles. He only cares that she wants him closer.

Harry leans his head down, his nose brushing against hers. Y/N pulls him closer, desperate to close the gap between them.

“Beauty,” he whispers.

“You can kiss me.” She tells him, “I want you to kiss me.”

She stands on her tiptoes, her hand curling around the back of his neck. His skin is warm, and I grab the hair at the nape and pull him toward me. Y/N knew she would end the night kissing him when he showed up with pink roses at her front door, calling her Beauty.

His hands came up to her cheeks, his mouth eager as he deepened the kiss. It was all-consuming, she knew kissing Harry would be like no other, but this was everything. He was gentle but firm and in control of the kiss. He knew exactly what she needed and gave it to her. He tasted of cherries, his lip balm he told her he carried everywhere, never one for dried lips. It paid off because his soft lips were addictive, and after getting a taste, she didn't know how long she’d be able to go without him.

“You taste sweet, beauty,” he confessed, pulling back, giving her a dimpled smile when he saw the dazed look on her face.

“You can have another taste.”

Harry giggles, “if I knew a kiss would make you so kind, I’d have kissed you sooner,” he teased.

“You can keep kissing me now,” she offered.

Harry was tempted to say yes, to keep kissing her out here as the moon shined down on them, but he knew he’d see her soon. He’d make sure of it.

“I’ll call you tomorrow to plan out our next date.”

“Sounds perfect,” she promised him. “Goodnight, Harry.”

“Sweet dreams, beauty.”

Harry kissed her one last time, then broke away. She leaned against the door frame as she watched him walk towards his car, turning to wave at her one last time before driving away.

Yeah, Y/N was excited to see Harry again.

+

After their date, Harry spent every free moment he had with Y/N. Their second date consisted of bowling and wings. Y/N had managed to win by a landslide. Harry complained how it wasn’t fair and to make up for Harry being a sore loser Y/N was happy to indulge him in kisses. It seemed Harry was a winner after all. Harry promised her he wanted to keep seeing her, and Y/N repeated the sentiment.

It seemed from then, their time together grew. Harry would visit Y/N during her lunch on the days she was at work and grabbed dinner most nights after her internships. Harry would pick Y/N up from campus and ask her what she was in the mood for. The answer was almost always ice cream which he was happy to indulge her with.

Sunday, he came to learn were grocery days for Y/N, and after he paid for her the first time he went, he got banned from accompanying her again, which led to Harry sending her groceries every other week. She couldn’t get mad because, without fail, her bouquet of calla lilies would arrive soon after. Y/N had never felt affection this way, and after a talk with Harry, he expressed it was his love language and quality time. He thought he was overwhelming her and promised he’d do better, and it broke her heart for Harry to believe she was anything but appreciative. After talking, she allowed him to surprise her with small gifts, but nothing out of the ordinary because if he showed up with a diamond necklace, she would be breaking up with him.

“Does that mean we’re dating Beauty?”

She rolls her eyes, “unless you don’t want to.”

He clicks his tongue at her response, “now, don’t be mean, baby.”

Y/N seemed to always fall for his term of endearment; something about his accent got her going crazy. “Yes, Harry, we’re dating.”

Harry smirks, liking the thought of being Y/N’s. Their time from then on increased. From coffee dates to morning walks on the weekends and late-night phone calls when Y/N couldn’t sleep and would ask Harry to keep her company. It seemed to happen during the middle of the week, and he’d wake up tired the next day for work, but Y/N was worth it. She apologized every time she called and sounded like she woke him up, but he’d ask Y/N to tell him about her thesis, and she’d settled down as he listened intently and asked her questions when it was allowed.

On weekends Harry would come over to Y/N’s and spend the evening making dinner together, watching TV shows Harry has never heard of, and Y/N promised he needed to watch because he was missing out. Truthfully, he watched to indulge her but came to look forward to their time watching New Girl together. Their evenings started with them sitting next to each other, then her arm resting on his thigh and his arm over her shoulder. He realized Y/N was a big cuddler, always wanting Harry to hold her and be the little spoon. He didn’t mind loving how snug she felt against him. She started falling asleep halfway through the episodes, laughing when Y/N mumbled a reply to the show. Over time, they’d go from cuddling to Y/N sitting in his lap kissing, ignoring whatever was on TV. Their hands explored everywhere above clothing. They rocked against each other, but they’d always stop before taking it a step further, and Harry respected Y/N too much to cross a line she wasn’t ready for with him.

Harry was happy to have her kisses.

Y/N, at this point, had talked so much about her thesis that Harry could understand from a certain perspective what she was writing about and allowed him to read over his thesis and make any annotations for her to fix, grammatically, of course. Harry was honestly very proud of her; it was clear how much work and dedication she had put into her thesis, and he knew she'd do it with ease when it was time to defend it.

“You’re my smart girl, huh. Going to run the world.”

Y/N would hide her face in his chest when he began with the compliments, easily getting overwhelmed. It seemed that dating Harry had brought her happiness she never saw coming.

It was odd if they spent time at Harry’s house. It was more convenient for them to spend time at Y/N’s. Harry didn’t mind because he loved being surrounded in a space that was all hers. Tonight, Harry took Y/N to a sushi restaurant for dinner, and instead of driving her back home, she promised it was still early enough to go to his house and watch a movie. She batted her eyelashes at him, giving him a sweet pout, and he found himself saying yes. He can’t remember a time she allowed him to say no, not that he would ever want to.

Harry played a documentary he had wanted to watch, and Y/N promised she’d stay awake and that the coffee she had earlier in the day would help. Although he doubted it because her coffees seemed to always be on the sweeter side. It was half an hour in that he heard her soft breathing. He knew she would be sleeping until the end of the documentary. Harry was happy to have her cuddled to his chest, that she was comfortable enough to fall asleep. It was close to two hours later that the documentary ended, and Harry looked at the time and realized how late it was and that he still had to drive Y/N home.

“Baby, wake up.”

Nothing. He tried again.

“Beauty, come on. Got to get you home.”

She groaned, burying her face deep in his neck, not bothering to pick her head up.

“Come on, it’s late, baby.”

She raised her hand to her mouth, covering her yawn as she began to sit up.

“Hi,” he cooed softly. “I’ll give you a minute, then we can head out.”

Y/N shook her head, “can I stay?” she whispered.

Harry couldn’t hide his surprise at her request. “You want to stay here?”

“Please, lovie?” Her eyes were filled with sleep, and he wanted her to stay; of course, he did. Tomorrow was Sunday, and the fact that he had the chance to wake up to her tomorrow would not be something he passed up.

“Of course, baby.” Harry lifts his hand to cradle her cheek. She turns her head to kiss his palm; he feels himself melt at her affection.

He helps Y/N to her feet and guides her up the steps to his bedroom. She walks in and sits on his bed as he finds her clothes.

“There’s face wash, a spare toothbrush, and towels in the bathroom for you to use,” he tells her as he hands her an oversized shirt and spare boxers. She thanks him silently as she drags herself to his bathroom. As Y/N gets herself ready for bed, Harry does the same. He washed his bedsheets two nights before and knows it’ll be okay for Y/N to sleep in. As Harry slipped out of his button-up and pants, he wore shorts and an old Stevie Nicks shirt, not wanting to make Y/N uncomfortable.

She walks out a few minutes later, clothes in her hand, his oversized company t-shirt on her frame with nothing else. He’s quick to avert his gaze, surprised to see her only half-dressed.

“Were the boxers not okay?”

“Don’t want them to sleep. Is that okay?”

He nods “ of course, come on, let me tuck you in.”

Y/N drops her clothes by his window nook. Harry has imagined Y/N in his room more times than he counts but now that he has her here, he knows he’s never going to get the image out of his head. She gets under the covers and sighs when the cool sheets hit her skin. She scoots all the way to the middle of the bed. Harry checks to see if she’s comfortable and is about to turn the lights off and leave when she calls his name.

“Where you going?” Y/N asks, concern in her voice.

“To the guest room.”

“You don’t want to sleep with me?”

Harry’s heart feels heavy in his chest, seeing that he has upset her. “I didn’t want to assume,” he tells her honestly.

“Come, sleep with me.” She extends her hand to him, and he’s happy to accept. Harry throws the cover away and drags himself right next to Y/N, placing his hand on her waist and bringing her closer. She turns to rest her head on his chest, using him as a pillow.

“Is this okay?” He asks.

“Perfect.”

Harry closes his eyes but feels Y/N move. “What’s wrong, baby?”

“Kiss, please?”

If he wasn’t careful, he’s sure he’d fall in love with Y/N, but something tells him it’s a little late for that. He leans down and presses his lips against hers in a soft kiss. She hums in appreciation, letting him pull away without a fight giving her a final kiss on her forehead. Now they can both sleep content. As Y/N settles back down on his chest, about to close her eyes, a painting on Harry’s wall captures her attention. It’s hanging next to a photo of a lake in his hometown. It’s a mermaid painting, specifically the one she painted with Harry on their first date two months ago. She told him to keep it, but she didn’t think he’d actually hold on to it, let alone hang it up for him to see every day he wakes up. Y/N sighs against his chest, snuggling closer to him, feeling content to fall asleep in Harry’s arms, knowing she’ll be safe and cared for because Harry never fails to shower her in love and affection.

She can’t wait to make breakfast with him tomorrow, but for now, she’ll sleep.

+

Harry regretted inviting Y/N to the golf tournament. Pleasing hosts this golf event annually for new and old partners. He hadn’t prepared for how good she would look dressed in an active pink skirt and a white polo tank that hugged her figure beautifully. Her hair was up and out of her face, and she had a pink visor on her head to prevent sunburn. She looked prepared for a game of golf, where she promised she wouldn’t play besides chatting up the investors. He was clearly in over his head. Harry had taken one look at her when he picked her up and asked her if she wanted to stay home with him instead. She laughed, hopping into his car, reminding him he had promised her breakfast and she was craving a bagel.

“Beauty?”

“Hmm…” She turned to look at Harry with a beautiful smile on her face, just for him.

He reaches over and brings her in for a kiss. He sighs against her mouth, happy to have her here with him. As much as he loves his company, he only does this to make more connections and keep his company growing.

“If you get tired or hungry, just let me know, and we can take a break.”

She shakes her head, “this is important for you,” she reminds him. “I’ll be fine. Plus, you fed me and filled my water bottle.” She rubs her tummy to show him how full she still is.

“Doesn’t matter. You’re my priority.” He assures her.

Y/N scrunches her nose, placing a kiss on Harry’s cheek. “You’re an absolute sweetheart, lovie.”

Harry hurries out of the car to help Y/N out, earning him another kiss, he’s tempted to push her up against his car and keep kissing her, but Y/N seems eager to see him golf. He checks them in and gets the keys to his golf cart as she waits on the side, looking at the clean facilities. She overhears the receptionist telling Harry they’ll start at hole one on the east side, and his guest will be sent that way.

She trailed behind Harry taking in the lovely view in front of her. His outfit was anything but ordinary. He wore pastel yellow flared pants that hugged his ass just right. A black polo tucked in and a simple Gucci belt completes his look. He decided against a hat but had his glove ready on his left hand for that extra support. Y/N loved the contrast of his tattoos and how his tan skin seemed to shine due to the sunblock she helped lather him in. He almost always has hidden his tattoos, wearing a suit and sweater. She knew it was because of work, and he was easily cold, but she never took moments like these for granted. The contrast of tattoos on his arms while his left hand had endless tattoos, his right hand only a few. She had to wonder what he hid underneath. She had only ever seen the peek of two swallows on his chest.

“Beauty, you alright?” Harry is standing against a golf cart numbered thirteen. It’s been known to be an unlucky number, but she’s never seen it that way.

She shakes away her thoughts and focuses on the man in front of her. He’s been nothing but a sweetheart since the moment they started officially dating a few months ago, and she’s thankful she decided to give him a chance and that he proved to be a good person and not the cold man she met many moons ago,

“Sorry, I was just admiring. Haven’t been to the golf course in some time.” She takes his extended hand and slides into the golf cart, his hand settling on her bare, exposed thigh. A shiver runs up her spine. She’s ready to take it to the next level with Harry but has no idea how to bring it up.

Harry and Y/N don’t have to wait long when a group of men and a few women come and greet Harry. There is a mix of young and older individuals chatting, and Y/N right away spots the man who keeps to himself, much like Harry. He’s an older gentleman dressed in black slacks, a maroon vest, black gloves on both hands, and a frown on his face. Harry introduces her to Jeff, Niall, and Tyler, his good friends. He promised her if she needed anything, she could ask them. They were all welcoming, asking her questions, not a lot of teasing, but they assured Y/N that Harry wasn’t the grump he made himself out to be.

During the first few holes, a lot of conversation was happening, and Y/N sat in the golf cart because she didn’t know how she fit into this crowd. She was a graduate student among these men and a few women who run these million-dollar companies. She hated that Harry felt obligated to bring her because it was their date night, and he didn’t want to cancel their plans. He convinced her when he told her he’d miss her too much if he didn’t see her this weekend.

Harry, after every swing, turns to find Y/N, who’s already looking at him. He came over, and she’d kiss him, telling him how impressive the swing was and that she knew he would win. Slowly, Y/N began to let herself mingle and talk with the other players. She seemed to always gravitate back towards Harry and his small group.

Y/N was standing, arms crossed, visor lowered as the sun beamed down on her. There was a lot of chatter when she realized that the man with the vest who caught her eye was alone again; she decided to approach him as Harry was wrapped up in conversation.

“Hi,” she greets. “I’m Y/N.”

The tall man with eyes as blue as the ocean turns to look at her. He looks at her stretched hand and reaches out to shake hers. “Malcolm Levington. A pleasure, Ms. Y/N.”

“You as well, Mr. Levington.”

He grimaces, “Malcolm is fine.”

She shrugs, “if you say so.” Before he can ask what she’s doing speaking with him, she asks a question. “What is it you do?”

“I’m the owner of Star Horizons,” he shares.

“The hotels,” Y/N gasps.

He laughs, “the very one.”

“Oh, your hotel ballrooms are hard to get a hold of. I’ve been trying to plan an event there for ages. It finally happened a few months back, but it hurt to be told the wait was so long.”

Mr. Levington frowns, “what event was it?”

“Oh, uh, we had a private action event for Hermanas Unidas. They wanted to raise money to open a second location. We exceeded expectations thanks to generous donations and hired full-time staff to get it up and running in two months.”

“That’s wonderful. I heard about this event; it was one of the smoothest experiences we have ever had. We had no problems with staff or guests. We got a lot of guests to come back and stay with us. Were you in charge?”

She grins proudly, “no, I work with the sub-events teams. It’s part of my job to help nonprofits with their events to get donations.”

“Impressive work. Would you care to tell me more?”

Y/N happily indulges Mr. Levington as he tells her about the degree she is working towards. She shares about each event she has worked on. He offers ideas on how to help and ideas for new events. He promises to attend her next event.

“Y/N?” Harry calls her name, interrupting their conversation.

“Harry, I was speaking with Mr. Levington,” Y/N tells Harry, holding onto his forearm and giving it a loving squeeze.  

Mr. Levington looks between Y/N and Harry, a curious look on his face. “Are you his wife?”

“Oh, he’d be so lucky,” Y/N tells Mr. Levington, a loyal partner to Pleasing. She found out a mere seconds ago as Harry whispered it in her ear.

Harry laughs, “Y/N’s my–”

Y/N rolls her eyes. These men don’t need to know about her and Harry, not that she’d mind him showing her off. “Enough about me. Tell me about that TaylorMade Stealth PLus Driver you have there. I hear it has low spin.” She points to the clubs a few feet behind them.

“You golf, Ms. Y/N?” Mr. Levington asks, surprised.

Y/N leads the man away, turning to look at Harry, offering him a wink as the man tells her about his clubs.

They’re about to head to the next hole when he sees Y/N still chatting. The man held on to her every word.

“Now I hear the Sims 2 has a better grip as it’s more lightweight. But don’t take my word for it, I haven’t had the chance to swing it, but from what I’ve heard Harry and Mr. Rowland discuss, I’d say you ask him for a chance to swing, but I do know how you all are about your clubs.” She tells him, knowing she is setting up Harry for an interesting conversation.

“Y/N,” Harry calls for her once again. She turns to see him with a bright smile on her face. “We’re ready for the next hole. Y/N loves to chat, Mr. Levington”.

“She’s a dear. She was telling me about your driver. Seems she thinks mine has a problem.”

“Now, now, don’t go twisting my words,” Y/N chastises.

“Only teasing, Ms. Y/N.” Mr. Levington turns his attention back to Harry. “Think you’ll let me take a swing, Mr. Styles?” Mr. Levington asks.

Harry offers him a sincere smile. “We can work something out.”

“A pleasure, Ms. Y/N.”

Harry stands with a hand on her waist as they watch him walk away. “What did you do, you little minx?”

“What do you mean?” She feigns innocence.

“That man,” he gestures to Mr. Levington, walking next to Jeff with their caddy. “Always comes to our events and never says a word. Here you have him yapping on and on about clubs you probably don’t care about.”

“You’re right. I don’t,” she confirms.

“Then, beauty? You don’t have to be flattering all these old men.” He tells her honestly.

“Jealous, H?” Y/N teases, stepping closer to him, her hand resting on the back of his neck.

Harry hums at her touch. “Course I am. Prettiest girl here on the green don’t want to share you with anyone.”

She leans on her tiptoes, pressing a quick peck on his lips. “Promise I’m enjoying myself.”

“Will you still ride with me?” He asks her, as he hadn’t helped her onto the golf cart after each hole.

“Am I driving?” She waits expectantly.

He offers her the keys, which she snatches up before he can even think of pulling his hand away. “Now, now. Give me a proper kiss, and we’ll go.”

She doesn't even fight him, simply leans in and kisses him. Harry hums at her sweet cherry taste. He knows she must have stopped the cart girl and asked for a Shirley Temple with extra cherries, her favorite.

“Come on, Harry. I want to see you flex those muscles as you swing that club around.”

She skips towards his golf cart labeled thirteen. He sees her skirt bounce, and he groans. He takes a moment to remind himself to breathe. He could do this for a few more hours. He might lose his mind by the end of the evening, but he would endure it.

Safe to say, by the time they reached the last hole, Y/N had all of these men eating out of her hand. Each person listens as she tells another story.

“She’s a good one,” Mr. Levington tells Harry as Y/N tells the others about the time she went to a museum, and security gave her a private tour because she resembled a famous artist. “Never seen anyone so charming. Surprised she picked someone as sour as you.”

“Hmm…clearly, her magic worked on you. Can’t remember the last time you spoke to anyone besides your clubs,” Harry answers honestly, knowing he is lucky to have Y/N.

Mr. Levington chuckles. “Touche Styles. Keep her around. She's good for business and you, it seems. That facade has dropped.”

“Yeah, she’s one of a kind.”

“H,” Y/N yells, “Come tell them about the penguin. How he’d follow my every move.”

“Seems you’re wanted, Styles.”

They bid each other goodbye, and he makes his way over to Y/N. Harry doesn't think twice before taking her outstretched hand, launching into the story of how both penguin and Y/N had been amused with each other.

By the time they get home, Y/N’s exhausted. She wasted all her energy conversing with everyone and now needs to re-energize. Harry stopped by and got them burgers on their way to his house. They were quick to devour in the parking lot.

“Can I stay here?” Y/N asks as she throws herself on his couch, landing face down.

“Don’t want to go home, baby?” He slips off her shoes, giving her calf a squeeze.

She lifts her head searching for him. “If it’s okay. You got that nice bath I want to soak in, please.”

He walks over to her, planting a kiss on her head. “Course you can, beauty. I’ll go set it up for you.”

The bath is the perfect temperature as Y/N sinks in, sighing as her body relaxes. She apologized to Harry because she knew he was the one who must be exhausted from a long game of golf, but he was quick to assure her that it made him happy to take care of her. There was an abundance of bubbles around the tub, so she called Harry back into the room. She wanted him to keep her company.

Harry sat down at the edge of the tub, a bowl of strawberries in hand that he knew Y/N would be happy to eat. He offered her one, and she took a big bite humming at the sweet flavor filling her mouth.

“Yummy,” she giggles.

Harry thumbs away the bit of juice running down her chin; he brings his thumb up to his mouth and licks it clean, “yummy, indeed.”

Y/N feels her face flush and wants to sink underwater but keeps her gaze on Harry. She’s naked in his tub and wants him to touch her. She just has to let him know.

“Another, baby?”

She shakes her head no.

He frowns but doesn’t fight her; instead places the strawberries on the counter. He settles back down until Y/N gestures for him to come closer. He smirks but does as she asks. He leans in close until they’re nose to nose, and she presses her lips against his. She moans as Harry slips a hand in her hair; he pulls back as Y/N looks up at him, dazed. She follows him, but he doesn’t let her kiss him. Y/N whines for him to come back.

“What do you want, beauty?”

Y/N pouts. She doesn’t want to say it. Isn’t it clear what she wants?

“Harry,” she whines.

“Need you to say it, Y/N. Not a mind reader.”

Y/N sighs because he’s right. She leans forward, pressing a kiss to his thigh through his pants. “I want you to touch me,” she breathes out. She lifts her head, meeting his gaze. “I want you to touch me, please.”

Harry runs his hand down her neck, following a water droplet until he reaches the top of her breasts. “Is this okay?” His finger skims along the top, and Y/N wants more. She needs more.

“Yes,” she huffs, eager for his touch.

His hand sinks into the water, caressing her breasts, and she leans into his touch, moaning as he gets to know her body more intimately. He shifts position to kneel next to the tub, his hand pinching her nipples until she hisses from the contact. His lips settled on her neck as he bites down in different spots. It’s all so much, but Y/N is loving every second. His hand dances over her until Y/N has enough and directs him to where she needs him. His fingers glide over her steadily, whispering touch that works her into a frenzy, filling her with need. His mouth drifts down her jaw to the delicate space behind her ear. He swipes his tongue across her skin before blowing cool air, and a shiver wracks her body.

“Harry,” she whispers.

He finds her clit, rubbing his thumb back and forth in circles as he gives her the pleasure she’s been searching for. She loses her train of thought as he curls one finger inside her and rubs her in all the right places, bringing her closer to the edge faster than she thought possible. Her orgasm is fast and blinding. She grips the tub’s edge so hard that her hand aches, but Harry doesn’t stop.

“One more,” he whispers, his mouth tangling with hers in a hot kiss as they battle for control.

She shakes her head, “c-can’t.” She doesn’t think she’s ever orgasmed back to back with a partner in bed. She orgasms just fine, she can admit she’s had shit partners in bed before, but no one has ever treated her with so much care and passion as Harry.

“Oh fuck,” she yells as Harry wipes away the bubbles uncovering her breasts. He moves away from her lips, not caring that there’s water spilling over the edge as he drags his tongue over each pebbled tip promising Y/N next time, he’ll focus more attention on them.

Each touch Harry gives her is magic. She loves how in control he is of her body as he works to provide her with what she needs. His thumb moves quicker over her clit, two fingers moving in and out of her slick, making it easier for him. Y/N’s body gives in to Harry, and she knows she’s close once again. Y/N throws her wet arms around his neck because she needs him close. She feels herself tip over the edge. Breathless and satisfied.

“Gorgeous,” he mutters against her soft neck. “My beauty was gorgeous.” Each word is followed by a kiss.

Y/N feels heavy but relaxed as he holds her close to her breasts against his soft polo.  “H,” she manages to breathe out.

“Alright, baby?”

“Magic,” she giggles, her chest heaving as she leans back into the water, trying to catch her breath.

Harry laughs as he carefully separates from Y/N to reach for a towel from his towel warmer. She notices the towel and perks up, only now realizing how cold the water has run.

“If an orgasm is all you needed to be, my good girl, I would have begged to give you one sooner,” he tells her teasingly. Y/N whimpers at his words, leaning into his touch as he helps her out of the tub, still a gentleman as he averts his gaze. “Let’s get you in some clothes and then to bed.”

“Kisses and cuddles?” She requests quietly.

Harry chuckles. “Course, baby. Anything you want.”

+

Y/N had never been so comfortable in a relationship.

She had always been a confident, independent person. Yet, when it comes to Harry, she has come to let herself be taken care of because she sees he finds joy in caring for her. Y/N had never had an equal partnership where her partner put her needs next to his. She understood he was running a billion-dollar company, and she was finishing her degree soon. They were at two different points in life, but Harry always treated her events and exam nights with so much importance it sometimes overwhelmed her.

Harry was happy with her, and that’s all she could ever ask for. Date nights were reserved for the weekends and coffee dates during the week, and Harry always made time to pick her up from campus, so she didn’t have to ask for a ride from a friend. He made himself a part of her life effortlessly.

For a long time, she worried about how she fits into his life, but after dinner with Harry’s friends one weekend, she learned how much of himself he had already given her. Harry held her hand during dinner and asked what she liked to order, going as far as to order her second food option in case she didn’t like hers. He kissed her cheek any chance, not wanting to overwhelm her and his friends with PDA but also reminding her that he was thinking of her. The little things made her realize she was falling in love with Harry.

As Y/N met Harry’s friends and heard embarrassing and loving stories about Harry, she knew it was time for Harry to meet her friends properly. Sapra tried to convince her to invite Matias and Isaac, but Y/N wanted to save meeting her brother for another time. Harry suggested brunch, and Y/N couldn’t argue with that logic. If Sapra or Dawn said anything too embarrassing, she’d just get them drunk on mimosas.

“Are you nervous, Y/N?” Harry asks as she keeps her eyes on the restaurant's door, waiting for her friends to walk in.

Honestly, she was nervous because they knew everything, from when Harry rejected her to when she danced with him. She knows why they are a little weary (Sapra more than Dawn), but they haven’t had a chance to see how Harry really is. Y/N had told them how happy Harry made her. That he dedicated time to her and made her feel important and loved. She knew her friends would accept her if she saw how happy she was, but she also wanted them to like Harry.

“Is it our age difference?”

Y/N frowns that hadn’t even crossed her mind. “No, is that something you think about?”

Harry sighs, reaching down to grab her hand and bring it up to his lips, placing a gentle kiss. Her eyes stay on his face trying to figure out what he’s feeling. “It’s crossed my mind,” he shares honestly.

“It’s not a concern for me,” she promises him.

His green eyes focus back on her, and Y/N sees the glimmer of a smile. “I know, Beauty. It’s not something you’ve ever brought up, but I fear if one of your friends brings it up, then it’ll concern you, and I’ll most likely end up losing you.”

Y/N wishes they weren’t having this conversation now, but it’s her fault for being lost in her head when she should have been assuring him that her friends would love him. “Harry, lovie, I’m in this with you. In this relationship, it’s you and me. No one else. Thank you for being honest with me, but my friends do not influence how I feel about you.”

Harry fails at biting back a smile. He lowers his head, closing the gap between them in the booth. “How do you feel?”

Y/N knows she can be cheeky and tease Harry, but she wants to assure him that she sees a future with him and hopes he feels the same. “I’m crazy about you,” she whispers.

He doesn’t respond but connects his lips against Y/N’s, getting lost in each other, not noticing Y/N’s friends being directed by the hostess to their table. Harry pulls back breathless, allowing himself to get lost in Y/N’s eyes. “The feeling is very much mutual, beauty.”

“Hey lovebirds, can you not do whatever before I’ve eaten,” Sapra teases, pointing at how Y/N is fisting Harry’s button-up tightly. Y/N feels her face heat up and pulls away from Harry.

Dawn flashes them a smile, “it’s nice to officially meet you, Harry. This one’s always talking about you.” Dawn gestures to Y/N, who giggles bashfully against his shoulder.

Harry kisses her cheek, whispering how cute he is before turning his attention back to Dawn and Sapra. “Not as much as she talks about you both, I bet. It’s a pleasure to meet you both.”

As Y/N’s friends are telling Harry story after story, she realizes that she’s falling in love, and by the way, Harry is holding her hand tightly in his lap that he is too.

+

Harry has never been so happy to have someone make themselves at home in his house. His mother and sister had always told him it was too large for one person, but he told them it wouldn’t always be him. He didn’t know what he wanted in a partner, but after meeting Y/N, he realized he was waiting for her.

It was too soon to say he was in love, but he was basically there. Harry had no intention of letting her go, and by how Y/N enjoyed showering him with kisses every chance she could, he knew she wasn’t planning on leaving anytime soon.

Everything was perfect.

She found herself in his study when she needed a quiet place to study. Usually, it meant he gave up his chair and settled on watching her from the couch next to the window. She would have her laptop in front of her, and if he let her, she’d work for hours without a break. He took it upon himself to bring her a snack and drink every hour to ensure she was well nourished. Harry found pleasure in cooking and making snacks because it was one way she allowed him to take care of her.

This evening Y/N was working on her laptop while Harry read a report for the upcoming month. Y/N sighed, closing her laptop and leaning back into the chair. He lifted his head in concern to find her already looking at him, a frown on his face.

“Beauty, what’s wrong?”

Y/N throws her hands up, “you're giving me too much?”

“Sorry?

“I didn’t need a new bag.”

She’s talking about her backpack ripping, and Harry thought nothing of replacing it for her.

“Your old one ripped.”

“My shoes were perfectly fine,” she fires back.

“The laces were barely holding together,” he reminds her.  

“I didn’t need new underwear.”

Harry smirks, “now that was for my pleasure.”

Y/N huffs, “Honey, I’m serious. I don't need all these material items.”

Harry sighs and pats his lap for her to come to sit. She does so without a second thought. She gets comfortable straddling him as his hands rest on her hips.  

“I like providing for you,” Harry expressed.

“I can provide for myself, mister.”

He nods because he knows she can. “But it makes me happy.”

“Harry,” she deadpans.

“Gives me a love boner.”

Y/N scoffs, slapping his chest playfully. “Be serious.”

Harry’s hands cradle her face, his thumbs rubbing her cheeks affectionately. “Baby, you could run me dry, and it gets me going because it means I was able to take care of you.

She sighs. “God, you're so cute,” she mumbles.

Harry grins, knowing he’s won. “Will you be my good girl and let me spoil you?”

Y/N nods slowly. He leans in to kiss her, but she stops him. “If you ever give me a diamond, I'm out,” she reminds him.

“Got it, no diamonds…. What about pearls?” He jokes. At least, she thinks he is.

“Lovie,” she exhales.

Harry has decided he’s had enough of the conversation and kisses her. Y/N always tastes so sweet. He gets lost in exploring her mouth against his that he doesn’t realize she has started rocking against him. Since Harry had given Y/N two orgasms in his bath, they’ve been more physical, but Harry isn’t in any rush, and neither is Y/N. They’re taking it slow, learning every part of their bodies before taking that final step in their relationship. He pulls back the dimples on display, he runs his index finger over Y/N’s swollen lips.

“Popcorn and Survivor, beauty?”

“Oh, Styles, you sure do know the way to a woman’s heart, don’t you,” she teases.

Harry pecks her lips. “Only yours, beauty. Only yours.”

+

Y/N couldn’t believe Harry would do this to her.

Harry sent over a large red box with a bow holding it closed. The carrier bid her goodnight, and she hurried to her kitchen to open the package. Removing the lid, she found a gorgeous emerald green dress. She picked it up, admiring the silk, and quickly pulled her phone out of her sweat pocket to call Harry. He answered on the first ring.

“Hi, beauty,” he greets cheerfully.

“Harry, tell me you didn’t.”

“Didn’t what?” He feigns.

“You sent me a dress for tonight.”

“Ah,” he giggles. “That I did. Do you like it?”

“It’s gorgeous.”

“Good. I'll be there at seven to pick you up.”

“You want to go together?” They knew they were both attending, but for some reason, she assumed they’d arrive separately.

“I didn’t get a matching tie for nothing.” He laughs. “See you soon, beauty.”

Y/N hurried to get ready, excited for what the night had in store for her and Harry.

Harry knocked on her door at seven on the dot. She rushed to the door, swinging it open and telling him to come in as she rushed back into her room. He laughed because he had never seen Y/N frazzled, and here she was, rushing, knowing she was running late. Harry put the blooming calla lilies in a vase he knew she kept under her sink.

“Shit, I’m sorry, Harry. My curler was being stupid, and then I couldn’t find my heels.” She huffs as she stands at her entrance, slipping on her heels.

Harry takes a minute to admire the dress on her. It’s an elegant satin spaghetti strap dress with a high slit up her left leg. Her hair is in an elegant updo, with a few strands framing her face. She’s gorgeous, and she’s all his to show off tonight.

“You sure you don’t want to stay home tonight?” He asks, reaching his hands out for her to take.

She shakes her head, knowing exactly what he is thinking. “Absolutely not. It’s a big night.”

And it was.

Y/N’s internship was hosting their gala of the year, where she played a prominent role in helping with the budget and the guest list. He would never keep her away from an event where she was an important guest.

Y/N grabs her clutch that holds her most essential items, such as her lipstick, ID, cash, and keys. She’s telling Harry she’s ready to go when she catches a yellow vase on her table filled with her favorite flowers.

“H,” she sighed. “They’re beautiful. Thank you.”

He kisses her cheek. “Anything to see that pretty smile.”

As she focuses on Harry staring down at her, she realizes she didn’t kiss him hello. Y/N leans in close, pressing her glossed lips against his. Harry hums at the familiar feel. He wants to take it further but knows they need to get going.

“All set?” He whispers.

“Yes.”

“Let’s go then, my gorgeous date.”

Arriving at the venue, Harry offered his keys to the valet as Y/N was helped out the door. Harry met her by the first step and offered his arm. She happily accepted. Walking in, Y/N was awed at the displays of gold scattered around the room. The table decorations were pristine, the lights were perfect for photos, and the ballroom was full of people. As soon as they were inside, Y/N was whisked away by her director, Valentina. Y/N gave Harry an apologetic smile but promised to find him later. Harry had always been good at spending time alone, but for once, he wished Y/N could have paraded him around the room as they introduced each other to people they knew. He knew that time would come.

It’s a beautiful and busy evening; at one point, a waiter finds him a single drink on a tray and hands it over to him, saying that a woman in an emerald green dress sent it to him. It was an amaretto sour, his new favorite. Y/N smiled from across the room when she saw him raise it in her direction as thanks.

The event was winding down, the string quartet was playing their final songs, and Harry was ready to call it a night. After an entire evening away from him, Y/N managed to make her way across the room and stood before him.

Y/N perks up as she hears the opening notes to the song the quartet is playing, their song. Moon River. Harry doesn’t tell her he’s turned the song into her ringtone.

She holds her hand for him to take, and he takes it without a second thought until Harry realizes she’s leading him to the dance floor.

“We’re going to be the talk of the town,” he tells her looking at the lonely dance floor.

Y/N shrugs, “it doesn’t matter.”

As opposed to the first time they danced together, holding space between each other, they were much closer this time. Y/N wrapped her hands around his neck, and his hands found their place on the low of her back.

“If I’ve learned anything, it’s that your opinion is the only one I care about,” Y/N promises him.

Harry’s dimples break through and she grins, leaning up to give him a sweet kiss. She settles back in his arms as their song plays, lost in their own world.

“You know,” Y/N lifted her head, resting on his shoulder. “You once told me you didn’t dance, and yet this is the second time I have gotten you to dance, hmmm?”

Harry laughs because she’s right. “I was waiting for the right partner,” he affirms.

“And is that me?”

“Beauty,” he says softly, his emerald eyes locked on hers. “It could only ever be you,” Harry promises.

Y/N smiles in delight. They might not have had the easiest journey to getting to this moment, but Y/N knew she wouldn’t change anything for the world.

Dancing with Y/N on an empty dance floor to a song he knew had now become theirs, he knew meeting Y/N would be the thing to ever happen to him in life, and he couldn’t wait to see what the future had in store for them together.

thank you so much for reading! i love you endlessly, amores 💜

please come tell me what you loved or your favorite part on anything at all. always happy to receive a message. 

[pinksturniolo]

Play Date - A Matt Sturniolo One Shot

Matt Sturniolo x Fem Reader

You call me on the telephone, you sound so far away

You tell me to come over, there’s some games you want to play

I’m walking to your house, nobody’s home

Just me and you and you and me alone…

Summary: The one in which Matt has been helping you babysit your 5 year old brother for the past couple years. Everyone in Somerville, MA knew him as the sweetest and caring guy, always helping someone when they needed it. However, you and him never got along, always disagreeing on most things. You and him had nothing in common. Well… maybe one thing.

Content Warnings: smut, angst, small age gap, fingering, oral receiving/giving, degradation, raw penetration, sneaking around, matt being a tough guy.

Based on this song: (pls listen it's so good and the lyrics are what inspired this one shot)

a/n: i'm sorry if the age gap makes anyone uncomfortable, everything depicted in this story is purely consensual <3

Winter 2024

You watched as Matt helped untie your little brother’s shoes and unzip his jacket, the two of them coming back in from playing outside. You had stayed inside on the couch, keeping warm while you worked on your English essay, watching them from the living room window. A storm hit soon after New Year’s leaving Boston in a blanket of fresh white snow.

He sets his shoes and jacket down, leading him to the kitchen to make him a cup of juice. Your brother adored Matt, there was no denying he was a great babysitter. A couple years ago, your mom started working out of town every other weekend, leaving you home alone to take care of your brother since your dad left when you were a little girl. 

Your mom had always been a strict parent, so naturally she didn’t trust you to be by yourself the whole weekend given the fact you were only 16 at the time. So, she asked one of her friend’s sons to help, who happened to be Matt Sturniolo.

Matt was trusted by mostly everyone, and your mom had known his mom since high school, so she had no problem with him being at your house. You, however, were extremely against this idea. You and Matt had never gotten along no matter how much you tried. You had known him since elementary school and from the moment you met, he always had an attitude towards you for some reason. Being that you were so stubborn, you didn’t back down from his sourness, and challenged him every chance you got.

He was a couple years ahead of you in school and always brought up the fact that because he was older, that somehow made him better than you. You refused to acknowledge that, butting heads with him constantly. It didn’t help that some of your friends were his friends and each time you guys were around each other, it was a constant competition. Who was better at bowling, who got first place in Mario Kart, who had the best golf swing. It annoyed your friends to no end.

When you were a sophomore, Matt would come over the weekends your mom worked out of town. He stayed during the majority of the day, taking care of your little brother. This also gave you the freedom to attend many of the extracurricular activities you were involved in. You took pride in being the top of your class and captain of the dance team. Matt endlessly teased you about it, calling you a “try hard” and “nerd”.

The time you did spend at home when Matt was there, you tried to avoid arguing with him around your brother. The three of you often went to the park, or got ice cream, never running out of ways to entertain him. The more time you had spent around Matt, it was hard not to develop a little crush. You would never admit it, but you admired the sweet side of him. He was good at taking care of your brother.

And he subtly started to flirt with you, teasing you over silly things, and checking you out when you weren’t looking. There was no doubt he found you attractive. But you frustrated him to no end, given the fact that you were so stubborn and weren’t afraid to voice your opinion when you disagreed with him on something. Matt liked to be in control, but you did as well. Still, he admired how hard working you were and your sensitive nature.

It didn’t take long before raging teenage hormones created sexual tension between you two. The summer before your junior year, stolen glances and accidental touches fueled the fire that had been growing over the years. One night when you were both alone, watching a movie after your brother had fallen asleep, Matt finally made a move on you. He would usually leave at nighttime, going back home to sleep so he could come back the next day and help you. But he decided to stay and finish the movie with you.

It had been a particularly good Saturday, and you had looked especially pretty that day. He couldn’t stop staring at you and when you asked him what he was looking at, he pressed his lips to yours, igniting a flame in you that you just couldn’t put out.

From that night on, you two snuck around every chance you got, whenever your brother wasn’t around or asleep, almost every weekend up until Matt graduated.

Making out on the couch until his hands found his way into your shorts and under your shirt, eliciting sweet moans from you while he thrust his fingers deep inside you. Pushing him up against the wall in the hallway as you got on your knees and took him into your mouth, his hands tangled in your hair, pulling and grunting until he came down your throat. A couple times, he even spent the night in your bed, using his mouth, hands and cock to make you cum over and over, in every different position.

As much as you both enjoyed the pleasure and excitement, there still was no denying the fact that you two despised each other. Maybe that hate was what fueled the passion between you two in the bedroom, but outside of that, you both never ceased the petty arguing. No matter the deep feelings you had for each other buried inside, it would never go past the sexual relationship you guys had built. Simple as that.

Once Matt graduated and started working in the adult world, he still took the time to keep his baby-sitting duties which you were grateful for, because at this point, you had started throwing yourself more into your schoolwork. You were applying for all the universities you could and taking extra shifts at Star Market you were working at part time. And then it came time for you to graduate, and you went off to college that fall, a few hours from Somerville. You had lost contact with Matt, neither of you taking the time or effort to reach out to each other.

✿

Now it was early January, and you were on winter break. You had come back home to visit and spent some time with your mom before she left on her work trip. Matt came over to help with your brother of course and this was the first time you had seen him since you graduated high school almost a year ago. He was now 20 years old, had let his beard grow out a little, and gotten several tattoos on his left arm.

Was it possible for him to get even more attractive than he already was back then? But you promised yourself you wouldn’t give into your past desires. You had too much to focus on and even though you were on break, you had an important English essay to finish. Besides, Matt had the worst attitude ever as soon as he saw you, making it easier for you to avoid him.

He was currently burning a hole into you with his pointed looks, glaring at you from across the room as your brother sat next to him, playing with his action figures.

You looked up at him from your computer, returning his dirty look. “Can I help you with something, Matthew?” You asked, knowing he hated it whenever you used his full name.

“Aren’t you supposed to be on break? Don’t you do anything for fun?” He said, referring to the fact that you had been typing away on your computer for the last hour.

You rolled your eyes, focusing your attention back on the computer. “Aren’t you supposed to mind your own business?” You responded.

He scoffed, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t really care what you do. I’m just tired of listening to your incessant typing.” He said with annoyance.

You ignored him, continuing to work on your essay while he continued to stare at you. You tried to focus but his piercing gaze distracted you. He sighed loudly and finally you slammed your computer shut, anger bubbling inside you.

“Fine. It’s not like I can focus with you acting like that anyway.” You snap, standing up to walk to the kitchen and get a glass of water.

To your annoyance, he follows you, leaning against the counter as you fill the glass and take a few sips. “Did you miss me, angel?” He says and you almost choke on the water, laughing as you set the glass down. “Don’t be ridiculous.” You reply, turning to face him. His eyes travel up and down your body, no shame in the way he checks you out.

“You still look hot. Brings back memories of when I had you all to myself-“He starts, a mischievous grin appearing on his face. You interrupt him though, grabbing his jaw a little roughly, smushing his lip together to prevent him from continuing whatever dirty thoughts he was going to say.

“Let’s get one thing clear, Matt. I came home to spend time with my brother, not to be bothered by you. Whatever you think we had in the past, you can forget about it. That will never be happening again.” You say sternly and let go of his face. He rubs his jaw and a dark look forms in his eyes as he leans down to whisper in your ear. “If you ever fucking grab me like that again, I’ll make sure you remember who’s really in control here. Don’t make me mad, Y/N.”

He then stalks off to the living room, leaving you there in shock, chills running through your body, a slight throb starting to ache in your core from just his words alone. Fuck. This was going to be harder than you thought.

After Matt left that night, you couldn’t help but let his words replay, memories from when he used to have his way with you cycling through your head. You just couldn’t deny your attraction to him no matter how much he infuriated you. You felt yourself growing wetter by the second as you thought about his voice, his large hands, what it would feel like to have his face between your legs again, his beard scratching against the inside of your thighs. Your fingers slipped inside your underwear, feeling the slickness there, circling your clit as you moaned out his name.

You couldn’t take it anymore. You grabbed your phone, calling Matt. He picked up on the first ring as if he somehow knew you needed him. “Hello?” He answered, his deep voice rumbling through the other end. “Matt…” You breathed out. “I need you.”

His cock immediately hardened at hearing your needy voice, knowing you well enough to know exactly how you needed him. “Be there in 5.” He replied, hanging up the phone and grabbing his jacket. Luckily, your house was 2 blocks from his and he walked in the cold, heart racing as he reached your bedroom window, lightly tapping.

You let him in, your mouths instantly connecting, tongues tangling and teeth clashing. You kissed each other hungrily, wasting no time removing your clothes and his as you laid on your bed. He put his hands all over your body, kissing every inch he could as you whimpered his name. “Please Matt, I can’t wait any longer.” You said, the need to feel him inside you overwhelming.

He hummed in fake empathy, pulling you roughly by your hips, wrapping your legs around his lower back and lining his cock up with your entrance. “Listen to how pathetic you sound. So needy for my cock already, angel?” He said, slicking it up and down slowly through your wetness, teasing you.

“Yes, please, please…” You responded, not bothering to fight his dominance. You were too turned on to care. He smirked at this, giving in and pushing himself inside you, no resistance from how wet you were. “Fuuuckk…” He groaned, head falling down, arms resting on either side of your head as he thrust into you at a good pace, uttering filthy words in your ear. “You feel so fucking good. Better than I remember baby.”

You moan loudly as he picks up his pace, his hips slamming into you over and over, your tits bouncing in his face as he leans down to suck on them and squeeze them in his hands. “Don’t stop Matt.” You breathe out, and he has no intentions of doing so, eager to get you to your climax. “I’m gonna cum soon.” You say and he looks up at you, shaking his head. “Not until I say so.” He warns, coming back up from your chest and wrapping a strong hand around your throat, squeezing slightly.

He grinds against you for a few minutes before you can barely take it, ready to beg him for what you need. “Pleaseee Matt. It feels so good.” You cry, making him almost bust inside of you.

He starts rubbing fast circles on your clit, pounding into you at a relentless pace. You bite your lip to keep from screaming, your eyes rolled into the back of your head in a state of bliss. “You gonna be a good girl and cum on my cock?” He asks, his other hand gripping your thigh, leaving bruises.

“Yes! Oh my god, yes.” You yell. “Go ahead baby, cum for me.” He says, granting you the permission to release your juices all over him and he moans loudly feeling you clench around him. He’s not finished with you yet though as he pulls out of you and suddenly flips you around before you have time to catch your breath.

He pulls your hips up, so your ass is in the air and spreads your legs with his knee, putting his hands on your lower back. “I’m not done yet, angel.” He says pushing himself into you again. You cry out from how sensitive you are, burying your face in your pillow. “Fuck, Matt.” You whimper and he thrusts into you at a fast pace again, the sounds of skin clapping together and wet sounds filling the room.

You feel pleasure building in you again and Matt takes a fistful of your hair, pulling it, making you moan with pleasure. You feel tears form in your eyes, another orgasm approaching from the way Matt is pounding into you, hitting your g spot repeatedly. “Matt...” You whimper, unable to say much else from overstimulation. “You can take it, baby. Ahhh, You’re such a good girl- fuck. I know you can cum for me again.” He says in between shaky breaths, feeling himself get close as well.

You cum again, crying out his name, your head slumping into your pillow as he lets go of your hair, squeezing your ass harshly as his hips stutter and he releases into you. You feel his warm load paint your walls and then he finally pulls out, both of you out of breath and he collapses down next to you.

“You okay?” He asks, a hand coming up to brush your hair from your face, seeing how fucked out you are. “More than.” You reply, with a small smile on your lips. He smiles back and wraps an arm around you as you lay on his chest, both of you quickly drifting to sleep.

✿

The next morning when you wake, Matt is gone. You feel a slight emptiness in your chest but ignore it as you get up and get ready for the day. The weekend is over, and your mom will be home soon. You have lots of plans for the upcoming week and don’t have time to think about all the feelings he has seemed to stir up from the past.

However, you get a call from her shortly, guilt in her voice when she tells you about an unexpected extension in her work trip came up and she’ll have to stay another week. You’re disappointed but you understand it’s important to her and now that you’re an adult, she’s okay with you staying home with your brother alone.

So, it’s a surprise to you when Matt shows up a couple days later, not even bothering to knock on the front door as he saunters in. You and your brother were sat on the couch, watching TV after lunch. “What’s up.” He says nonchalantly, sitting next to you. Your brother immediately jumps up in excitement, going over to him. “Matty!!” He says, a cute smile on his face. “Hey, buddy.” He says back, ruffling a hand playfully through his hair.

You ignore how insanely cute the interaction is, scoffing in annoyance. “Have you ever heard of knocking?” You say in aggravation, Matt losing the smile as he looks at you. “You should probably lock that door more often. It’s not safe. Which is why I came over to make sure things are good over here. I overheard my mom talking to your mom about how she’s still stuck in Aspen on her work trip.” He responds. You simply roll your eyes and sigh, not bothering to argue with him.

“Whatever. Come on, baby. It’s time for your nap.” You tell your brother, and he gives Matt a hug before you take him to his room, reading him his favorite book as he falls to sleep.

You close his door with a soft click, walking over to the kitchen table so you can sit and work on your essay some more. Matt’s already there, reading what you’ve typed on the screen.

“Excuse me! What are you doing.” You scold, ripping the computer out of his hands.

He laughs, leaning back in his chair next to you. “Not too bad, Y/N. I knew you were a nerd, but I didn’t know you were that smart.” He teases.

“You’re insufferable.” You reply, ignoring him as you continue typing.

“Hmm, I beg to differ. That’s not what you were saying when I had your legs shaking-“ Before he can finish, you pinch his thigh through his jeans, making him yelp.

“Don’t be a jerk, Matty. We both know that night was a mistake.” You say, and he furrows his brows in pain, his eyes closing and breathes through his nose.

Then he grabs your hand from his thigh, placing it back on your leg and rests his arm on the back of your chair while he leans in closer to you.

“What did I tell you before, hm? Do you need to me to put you in your place again?” He says, the blazing look in his eyes making you squirm in your seat.

You look back to your computer, attempting to focus as he traces circles on your bare thigh with his fingers. “Matt. Stop.” You say, trying to sound stern despite the butterflies that form in your stomach.

“Why?” He replies, moving his hand farther up your skirt.

You grit your teeth, swallowing hard. “Because… I’m trying to study.” You say weakly now. Why the fuck couldn’t you control yourself around him?

“You sure about that?” He whispers now, voice filled with desire. His hand is completely disappeared underneath your skirt now, his fingertips soft as he presses them to your clit, a wet spot forming in your panties.

You sigh in desperation, Matt satisfied with the fact that he has you wrapped around his finger.

His lips ghost across your neck and he places a soft kiss beneath your ear, making you moan aloud.

“Just say the words and I’m yours, angel…” He rasps, his dick throbbing in his pants.

You suddenly snap out of it, pushing his hand away and abruptly stand up from your chair. He was not going to continue to just have his way with you.  “If you’re not going to allow me to study in peace, then you can leave.” You say harshly, leaving the kitchen.

You storm down the hallway to your room, Matt following closely behind. “Stop following me!” You whisper yell, trying to be quiet as your brother is asleep in his room. You reach your door, attempting to slam it in his face when he puts his arm out, stopping the door before you can. He has an annoying smirk on his face when you turn to glare at him. “What’s got your panties in a twist?” He says, making you roll your eyes.

“You’re a disgusting pervert.” You sneer at him, referring to moments earlier when had a hand up your skirt.

“Don’t act like you don’t like it.” He responded, the smug smirk on his face growing wider. “Don’t act like that’s the first time I’ve touched you… Like I didn’t just have you begging me to let you cum the other night.” He added, leaning closer to you, a dangerous look in his eyes.

You scoffed, pushing him away from you by his chest. “I don’t recall anything like that ever happening.” You say with disgust in your voice. You both knew you were lying, of course. But you had done your best to try and forget your momentary weakness that night.

“Why don’t I jog your memory then?” He speaks lowly, moving closer again, forcing you to walk backwards further into your room, closing the door behind him and locking it. Your heart races and thighs clench together, that stupid smirk still on his face as he wraps one hand around your throat, the other harshly gripping your waist and smashes his lips to yours.

You melt into his kiss, his grip on your throat making your pussy throb. “Stop being such a brat.” He says, backing you up against the wall of your bedroom. He removes his hand from your throat and trails it down to the hem of your shirt pulling it off you and then ripping your skirt down your legs once again leaving you in just your bra and panties. “But I love the reaction it gets out of you.” You say breathlessly, knowing he was only going to punish you the more you talked.

He attacks your neck with wet kisses, sucking and biting all the sweet spots he knew you loved, lustful moans leaving your mouth. He suddenly drops to his knees, ripping your favorite lace thong off you.

“Matt!” You speak. “What the hell?” You were definitely making him buy you a brand-new pair later.

“Shut up.” He simply replies taking one leg and wrapping it around his shoulder, burying his face in your cunt. “Oh fuck.” You groan, tossing your head back against the wall as pushes his tongue inside you. His hands keep a firm grip on your waist as he continues to fuck you with his warm, strong tongue, only pulling out to kiss and suck on your clit, driving you to the edge.

It doesn’t take long for you to cum, the sight of Matt willingly on his knees for you, his blue eyes staring up at you.

Once you finish, Matt stands up, ready to throw you on the bed and continue to have his way with you but you decide it’s time for you to take some control.

You push him onto the bed before he can say anything, and climb on as well, the look on his face priceless.

“Take off your jeans and your shirt. Now.” You demand, sitting on your knees in front of him, while he leans back against your pillows. He does so without any protest surprisingly, and once he’s left in just his boxers, you lean down, your ass arched in the air, and pull them off. His dick springs out, slapping his stomach and you grab it, taking him into your mouth. He groans loudly, putting a hand in your hair but you push it away, removing your mouth from him with a pop. “No touching.” You say, looking up at him seriously.

He smirks at you, raising both his hands in the air. “Yes mam.”

Satisfied with this, you lower your head down again, fitting as much of him in your mouth as you can, jerking the rest, and bobbing your head. The sounds he makes get you even wetter, and you moan around him, letting him brush the back of your throat. “Fuck, baby, you’re doing so good.” He coos, gripping your sheets as you prohibited him from touching you.

He slowly bucks up into your mouth as you take him deeper and deeper into your throat, one of your hands now resting on his thigh and the other grabbing his balls. You know he won’t last long like this and before you can make him cum, he grabs your shoulders, pulling you up to sit on him.

“Come here, angel. I want you to ride me.” He says and you straddle him, sinking down on his cock. You both moan out at the feeling, and you start to bounce on it, putting your hands in his hair and tugging.

He guides your hips, helping you ride him, the air in the room now hot and thick.

“Look at you, so fucking needy. You just can’t get enough, can you baby?” he says, groaning as he watches himself slip in and out of you.

The feeling of him deep in your guts has you back in your submissive state, just nodding at his words, moaning his name. “Yes Matt.”

“Mm, shit, you look so beautiful, dumb for my cock like this.” He continues, knowing exactly what to say to bring you to that edge again. His fingertips dig into your hips, the pain mixing with the pleasure.

You lean your head against his shoulder, starting to get tired but still chasing that high.

You puff hot breaths against his neck, lazily leaving sloppy kisses.

“Want Daddy to help you, honey? Want me to make you cum on my dick again?” He rasps and all you can manage is a whine and nod against him. “Please.”

That’s all he needs to hear before he starts bucking his hips up, slapping against you roughly and you scream out, the grip in his hair becoming tighter. He’s so deep inside you at this angle, the pressure is almost overwhelming, and you can do nothing but take it, whimpering his name over and over again.

You reach your orgasm, cumming all over him and he finishes soon after you, biting into your shoulder as he does. He holds you for a little, both of you catching your breath, before you climb off of him.

You lay next to him while he rubs a hand up and down your legs, tracing small circles on your hip.

“You know, if this is how the rest of the week goes while you’re here, I won’t complain.” You joke and this makes him laugh, pulling you closer to him.

“Don’t worry angel… I’ll help you finish that essay too.” He says, pressing a kiss to your forehead before you both fall asleep.

[zoropookie]

HOW HATERS ARE BORN (HHAB)

♡ chapter thirty-eight — why couldn't it be mini-golf? (💋)

[[ALL WRITTEN CHAPTER]]

The dinner party was quiet for the first part.

But not the kind of quiet that would have made anyone into a bad type of uncomfortable. No, it was the kind of quiet that usually hangs heavy in the air with a clear path to stop it. But that path mentioned was definitely not going to be brought up anytime soon, nor even uttered.

The "path" being the eventual contemplation of both your and Kuni's relationship. Or..."relationship"? You had no idea. And frankly? You were too annoyed by Venti's chewing to even think about it right now.

There sat the bodies of Hu Tao, Thoma, Aether, Lumine, Heizou, Yanfei, Ayaka, Xiao, Kazuha, Venti, Kuni, and you at a very long table with what felt like it had no end in sight. Only sounds were the soft clinking of silverware against the china and the eventual murmur of someone to another. It was similar to faint ripples disturbing the surface of the pond.

Venti, seated next to you, was eating away with an unbothered look, feasting at his second dish of the hot pot with numerous amounts of meat. "Oh my god," He said with his mouth full, exaggerated smacks and crunches that seemed to echo louder than the previous ones, grating irritably on your nerves. "Brilliant. I mean, who came up with this?!"

"Been a thing for...forever, actually." Kuni's eyes dulled as he replied with the most unamused tone imaginable, swirling his chopsticks in the soup stock.

"Do you live under a rock?" Hu Tao's eyes narrowed, ever the lively one as she plopped a piece of well marinated pork in her mouth. "It's a common thing, not very new, dumbass."

"Ohhh, no. Don't go and try and make me look like the dumbass." Venti pointed. "Scara~ I know that you were too lazy to try and think of an actual dinner for us out of your busy schedule, but it really reminds me of how creative you can be anyway. I mean, a steamboat?! Your mind! Can I still call you Scara?"

"No." He replied flatly, not even looking up from his bowl.

"Where did you find this?" Venti marveled. "Genius invention, if I do say so myself. Like, watch this." And with that, he put the raw piece of beef inside of the boiling hot broth.

The beef had bubbled inside of the broth, cooking the meat almost instantly. The rich aroma was wafting throughout all of the visitor's nostrils, leaving a tempting bubble of juice that lightly coated the beef he pulled out, making your own mouth water despite your annoyance.

"You wanted to show us... you cooking meat?" Ayaka asked, her voice tinged in a genuine and curious way, wondering if there was an end confirmation to this. Unfortunately, there wasn't, and the rest of the table sighed.

"You know what guys, the art of cooking is lost on a lot of people, don't expect you to know about it. I wish that you could see how philosophical every thin slice that goes into your mouth is, but I'm not your own eyes." Venti threw his hands up in defense.

"Venti...when the pot is at a very high temperature, the meat inside of it usually tends to cook after a few seconds. That's how it works." Aether slowly told him, to which Hu Tao narrowed her eyes in a death-like stare.

"But what about the journey of that high temperature cooked meat?" Venti continued, his tone almost as philosophical as his aggravating chewing. "The laughs, the memories, the stories, preparing this meal together. That's...what makes this dinner more special than others. Our first."

"And our last." Kuni rolled his eyes, clearly unimpressed. "I didn't let you guys into my house just for him to give us a TED Talk on the importance of family time. Just eat the fucking food and save us the theatrics."

"There's no point, he's just going to keep at it." Yanfei sighed in defeat. "He knows what he did. This will never end as long as we're all alive."

"Yeh? What did I do that was that awful?" Venti raised an eyebrow, his lips curving into a pout. "Because what I did do was put those two together at a dinner table right now. You're welcome, by the way." He poked the direction towards you and Kuni.

"He's got a point..." Thoma let out a small chuckle, gaze flicking to the both of you. "You're both being civil right now. Most times you'd just try to bite your tongue whenever you were around each other."

"That's so not true." You scoffed. "I'd say I was very civil. Me, at least. Can’t say the same about others."

"Yeah? Throwing me under the bus now?" Kuni shot you a withering glare. "You asked me out first, don't think I don't remember when we were about to get in the car."

"Hey, quick tip for when you're stuck in conversations you don't want to be in: being proactive helps. Being a fake flirt helps. Someone had to break the ice, and it wasn't going to be you." You shrugged.

"By flirting with me?"

"I mean, it got your attention, didn't it?" Hu Tao replied, leaning back in her chair. "You're smitten."

"I am not smitten. I have intense feelings that should be mutual." His eyebrow quirked up, a hint of amusement softening his features. No matter how defensive his tone was, he knew he couldn't believe anything he said. "You shouldn't be chastising me anyway. I already made myself clear before you got here that I hate the shady shit."

"And I made myself clearer that I didn’t want anything from you right now, no?" You retorted immediately, head shooting towards him with a glare, tone clipped and snippy. "You'd be smart not to bring it here."

Tension rose to a great extent as your words began to make everyone uncomfortable, with the exceeding silence and awkwardness that ruminated between you and Kuni. It was pretty much just the two of you that were giving off an aura like no other. Safe to say that even Venti's attempt of getting the both of them to ease up from what they eventually have to do was a failure.

You glanced at Venti after he began to start moaning despite this, and sighed inwardly. Only he of all people could manage to make eating a piece of meat sound like something else. You threw your chopsticks back on the table, it causing a metallic thud. "Alright. I think I'm done."

"I'm sorry that I'm trying to bring liveliness that you all lack right now. Why is so quiet anyway?" Venti asked, his eyes looking around at everyone's suddenly shifted demeanor.

"You shouldn't be encouraging Venti to be loud, Thoma." Lumine hesitated in her words, trying to disengage the situation. "Let's just do an exercise. We'll say something really nice about the person next to us, and if you have nothing to say, you're going to stay here and help Kuni pick apples as a summer job."

Heizou shot up immediately, slamming his hands down on the table. "I have nothing nice to say about anyone here. Fuck all of you."

"Fat fucking chance. Sit your ass back down." Kuni snarled.

Kazuha frowned, furrowed brow betraying his own confusion. "What did we do...?"

Lumine squinted at him, taken aback by his words before pressing her lips together. "You have to play the game first to decide that, jackass."

“Well, this game already isn’t very fun.” Heizou blurted, saltily sitting back down. “Easy enough for nobody to jump me here though, I’ll take all the compliments I can get.”

"I’m glad that Kazuha and Thoma are sitting next to you and not me.” Hu Tao’s eyes dulled. “I’d blow my brains out before I ever compliment a child trafficker.”

“Okay, good thing we’re not starting with you, then.” Lumine argued with the both of them. “Fuck,” She muttered under her breath, composing herself before she had to speak again. “Then, since you’re one of the last letters of the alphabet, You go first, Xiao.”

Xiao picked his head up, his sharp eyes scanning for the person next to him who just so happened to be Venti. “Oh,” He paused, the rest of the table waiting for his response as Venti excitedly bounced in his seat. “I don’t want to play.”

Venti’s shoulders dropped. “Are you kidding? C’mon, you can’t think of anything?”

“Said he doesn’t want to play, this is our group therapy dinner where consent is the Hail Mary. No compliments for you, too bad, so sad.” Hu Tao stuck her tongue out playfully.

“Your attitude right now is the main reason that one of these days you’re going to get scammed so bad by a pyramid scheme that you’re actually going to start believing the Tupperware you’re selling is valuable. It’s not. It never will be.” Venti squinted.

Hu Tao sat there for a minute, looking into the other’s eyes before scrunching her nose up. “Are you okay? That was extremely specific.”

The rest of the table was silent, until Lumine sighed quietly. “Okay…Xiao, can you at least try to come up with something so we can move on? You don’t have to do it again, this is just a one time thing.”

“I’m grateful,” Yanfei gritted her teeth inwardly. “Never thought I’d have to be genuine anytime soon. Why couldn’t it be mini golf?”

He let out a slow breath, clearly reluctant to even participate in this obviously forced exercise. The more he stalled, though, the longer it was going to take to ebb how uncomfortable it is. “Venti,” He began, voice steady but devoid of emotion. “Your music is very refined.”

Venti clutched at his own heart, making a sound like he just got punched in the gut. “I’ll take it. That’s so cute of you.”

“Yeah! This is a really good exercise for us! We haven’t gotten the time to really appreciate each other as friends.” Thoma smiled. “Go ahead, Venti! Say something nice about (Y/N)!”

“Right.” Venti turned his head to you, trying to fully grasp what he wanted to say. It left eye contact with him very unsettling. “Hm…no matter what happens to you, you’ve still proven that you deserve what you have. Keeping that energy lead you to many people wanting to be around you in result. You should be grateful for that.”

You couldn’t help but stiffen at his words, letting out a small smile tug at your mouth in return. “That really means a lot, Venti. Thank you.”

You took a minute to sink in Venti’s words before you slowly turned to the person who you dreaded giving a compliment to right now— Kuni sat there perfectly. His head rested gently on his head as he leaned against the table with his elbow.

“You…” You stammered on your words, trying to look in your mind for something, anything, you could say that wouldn’t compromise your position. But you knew that despite everything, you liked him a lot. He did prove that he was into you a long time ago, you just didn’t want to admit it. “I like…uh…”

You were unsure how to respond. And Kuni knew that too, so he took the lead. “I think you’re the only person who’s brought me joy in more than just a platonic situation. Being around you is something special to me, I’d rather it not go to waste fighting.”

Your eyebrows furrowed, wanting to look agitated, but his words were so genuine that you were put on the spot. You felt tears brimming up in your eyes in return, trying to hold your eyes open to shun them away, only resulting in them returning tenfold.

You quickly stood up from your seat, bitterness running down like waterfalls. “Excuse me.” You murmured, before rushing off to an undisclosed room.

The rest of the table was silent after that, looking around at each other awkwardly. From what was supposed to be a comfortable exercise turned into something entirely worse than expected. Especially since they all had a feeling that it would go wrong with you sitting next to him.

Kuni groaned, his head hanging and his back pressed firmly against the chair. “Fuck,” He drawled, feeling his patience wear thing. “So fucking annoying.”

“Go after them.” Thoma said amongst the quiet, a warm smile on his face. He knew that even though he wanted to go himself, there was someone who was planning to be with you for a very long time. “You’re good. We’ll all be here when you come back.”

Kuni hesitated, to which Kazuha smiled and nodded. “You said you had Mario Kart, right? We can just play that if you don’t mind.”

“Oh, fuck yeah!” Hu Tao was one of the first people to stand up, shooing Kuni off with her manicured hand. “Go. Bye! We’re going trashing on your expensive equipment for three hours.”

No matter how much he wanted to kick everyone out, he was given a small reminder as to how they’re the main reason why you haven’t given up on him. Unfortunately. So he didn’t say anything, leaving towards his bedroom, the same room he heard you lightly sobbing in.

The room both of you found yourselves in were dimly lit and a complete contrast from the kitchen. It was quiet, but the quiet here was different and heavy and thick— almost suffocating him. You sank down into a plush armchair sat in the corner of his room, sitting in silence with yourself until now.

You didn’t bother looking up to see who it was, you knew who it was. Kuni’s footsteps were light and soft enough to tell you that, he took the seat opposite you, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. You were forced to look at him.

He looked beautiful from up close, his features naturally pairing together with the rest of his face. His jawline a perfect structure, his eyes soft enough for you to stare into his violet pools. His hair light and feathery, strands of it sticking in small clusters.

“Tell me what’s going on.” He sat back, mustering up a mix of concern and patience on his face. “I already told you I’m not going to fight with you anymore.”

You wiped your eyes candidly, the back of your hand leaving residue of your tears. A hiccup broke your speech, “That’s the problem, isn’t it?” Your wetted eyelashes brushed against your cheeks as your eyes squeezed shut. “You’re too patient now.”

“Didn’t learn it in a night.” He absorbed your words like they were all that he was able to get in that moment. “I mean, I still have no idea why you came around even this quick. You don’t have a reason to stay by my side as much as I do for you.”

“Oh, of course. Because it’s always different for you. You’re still trying, just like you did when you hated me, it’s confusing. You’re so…fucking confusing.” You looked up again, meeting his eyes with defeat. He was going to be in your life whether it was a friend or a lover, and with the more days that pass with him in it, you start to feel yourself teeter back and forth. “You’re not going to give up, are you?” Your voice was weak.

His eyes never left your face, tentatively taking your hand in his. “I had to get used to the idea of potentially never seeing or talking to you again when I left.” He paused, sincerity striking his face, more of an intense look than usual. “I never want to go through that again so long as I owe it to you. It’s cowardice, and I’d rather face you myself.”

“When will you not owe it to me?” Your heart was hurting, beating faster than it could ever. “I never wanted you to be indebted to me, you did that because you felt guilty, so just squash it already.”

At every second he stayed quiet, the brighter it dawned on you his intentions. He wanted to be by your side as long as possible. “Then it’s all done,” You stared at the hand holding yours, his warmth and steady hands with his skin slightly bulging with his veins, a black ring on his middle finger. “No more games. No more pretenses,” He said calmly. “I want you. More than I wanted anything.”

“Yeah.” You said slowly, a sense of cautious hope blooming in your chest. “I think I kind of do too.”

Swallowing hard, you tried to gather your own sense of resolve here. But all that you were able to even think about was how close he was to you…and the fact that you wanted to suck his face off.

The silence this time was a comforting one, understanding of each other that was unspoken for. He leaned in close to your face, the heat of his breath slowly lingering on your skin, making you ache in a passion you’ve never felt before even when Childe was trying to pursue you.

“Can I?” He whispered.

The breath you had was swept away by his tantalizing voice, nodding slowly at his request. It wasn’t like the last time where the anger and frustration was taken out on the love they pressed into the kiss. No, this one felt a lot better than you ever would have imagined.

The kiss that followed with your words was fluffy at first, the meeting of lips that quickly grew deeper as the months and months of progress they put into their entire history together was no longer at its standstill anymore. His hands snaked across your body, also with an aching desire nestled in his chest.

He tasted amazing on your lips, and you pressed yourself against him in a swift movement, swapping seats gradually. You were dazed, if your eyes could have hearts in them, they would have already.

You didn’t recoil, or protest, or fight him every step of the way anymore. Your tongues danced together in a passionate tango, its foreign-like actions to you making your eyes bleary with love. You were melting into him, no matter how much you didn’t want to give him that satisfaction.

It looks like you have a lot more to explain to your fans than expected.

previous ♡ masterlist ♡ next

YOU ARE on your way to being one of the hottest streamer in your nation at the moment, racking a monthly average of 10 million viewers, but something specific bothers you about it. you know that a lot of people hate you, but there's this one account. one account that's been following you since the early days of your career. they leave a flood of rude comments in your stream, your moderators banned each account they made, but they keep making more. you are at the end of your tether. but you are yet to find out that this persistent cockroach is none other than your friend's friend (and the only other streamer that's bigger than you), scaramouche.

taglist ♡ @thystarsshine @veekoko @gumickajolli @simonisferal @kamiboo

@justpeachyteastea @feiherp @pinkismyfavcolor @aether-darling @kunisnaomi

@keiiqq @mine-lu @featuredtofu @danhenglovebot @k4zushi

@kyon-cherri @b4tm4nn @iiinaurate @quacking-simp @auroratumbles

@kookiibun @ulquiorraswife @amvpk01 @simplysm1le @h3xi2g0n3

@alatusorrow @scaranthropy @mellowberrie @magica-ren @vernith

@kabukipookie @bananasquash @suqarlaced @dellalyra @lightyagamifan

@yourfavoritefreakyhan @heartsforseo @yomishen @pwushizz @swivy123

@strxwberryfetish @ibyobi @ashfrommars4 @chemiru @ainnofinway

@agaygothicmushroom @levianamor @dragontammerz @wth121 @lylovw

@morgyyyyyyy @lovemari @suniika @littlesliceofcheese @yumejo89

@liuaneee @franaby @tiddieshakeshownu @mimi3lover @kavineyah

@kittywagun (bold users means i'm having trouble tagging you)

[seat-safety-switch]

"The '70s are coming back," explained the very patient sales lady at the Hudson Bay furniture department the other day. I was inquiring about a weird-looking brown sofa that some unscrupulous garbage-picker had clearly dumped in the middle of their showroom. Imagine my surprise when, rather than being grateful to see me haul it away and put it into my living room (I need new things to stack carburetors on,) she asked me for eight thousand dollars instead.

This is exactly why I don't shop at the downtown Bay very often. Too bougie, with all those lawyers, attorneys, barristers, and legal practitioners coming in there on their lunch breaks and buying seven sets of brand new underwear for the coming week. On the way home, though, I had plenty of time in the mandatory traffic jam (behind two Maybachs and an Aston) to think about what she had said. Could it possibly be true that my smoking, heaving, late-70s piece of shit Plymouth Volare, the very same vehicle that was mostly under my feet at this exact moment, be worth more than I paid for it?

To answer this question, I found an appraiser in the phone book. When I was a kid, I thought an "appraiser" was like the weird little dude who follows behind the bully in teen comedies, backing up everything they say. In actual fact, that is called a "hype man," and I recommend you not hire one of those to appraise your car. Appraiser Dave (or David, if you're friends) told me that he could do an appraisal of my car in his driveway in just minutes. At last, I would know what kind of asset base I had been flinging into corners and onto golf courses at reckless land speeds this whole time.

"Is this some kind of joke?" he spat, and demanded the payment immediately. Luckily for me, at that exact moment, a squirrel shook out of its home in the air cleaner and ran up his shirt sleeve. I think it was Ted, but it might have been his common-law wife, Tedina.

His or her tragic sacrifice was not made in vain, as in the ensuing distraction I was able to escape the neighbourhood without Appraiser Dave seeing my license plate. It helps that I couldn't shut the engine off, because it diesels really bad when you do that, and it eats batteries whenever it sits for more than ten minutes. Cheaper to just let it run 24/7 and top up the gas every morning. I need to count every penny: I'm saving up for a couch.

[shojizbae]

JJ Dating a Kook

JJ picked up a job caddying at a golf course

He makes good tips for the first two months

One day he is assigned to a caddy for a mother, father and daughter

He expects some rich little 9 year old with her head up her ass

Enter you, beautiful, graceful, kind, and damn good at golf

He blushes (for the first time since he was 12 and found his dads nudie mag) when you accidentally brush his knuckles when he hands you your nine iron

Your dad, who’s the typical rich overprotective Kook dad, noticed this and tries to stiff him on a his tip

You noice that he only hands him a 50 for putting up with your parents nonsense for four hours

You point out one of your dads work buddies and your parents drift over to chit chat

You grab your dads wallet and pull a handful of twenties and shout that you need the rest room before you leave

You run over to JJ where he’s parking the golf cart he’d just driven y’all around on when you approach him

He jumps up and removes the course company hat to greet you

“My dad’s an asshole, here’s the rest of your tip.” You hand him the hand and he numbly receives it

“Thanks,” he chuckles and puts his hat back in his head. When he gets home and counts it he realizes that you had tipped him $240

“I feel like I’ve seen you at a bonfire,” he looks up for the wad that he was trying g to approximate

“Yeah, I go to most of them,” he takes his eyes down to the salmon skort you were wearing, it matched your hat

“I hope I’ll see you at the one this Saturday,” you giggle and skip away leaving him stunned

He does see you that Saturday. You were standing my the fire in black sweatpants and a royal blue bikini top. arms crossed with a red solo cup loosely held in your fingers

The fire made you look so radiant

He down the rest of his PBR and grabbed two more. The lion enters the den.

“Whatever that is looks like shit,” he hands you one of the beers he’s holding.

“Kinda” you throw back the final swig and toss the cup into the flames. You receive the glass bottle with half smile and look back into the fire to watch the cup melt “Thanks JJ”

His heart sings you remembered him!

You going golfing again soon?” It’s the only thing you two have in common so far

“No, I don’t get out often. My parents don’t want me out of the house without supervision. They have no idea I’m here, think I’m at the gym.”

“At,” he checks his phone “11:40?”

“Yeah,” you bite the cap of your beer off and spit it away from JJ “they’re kinda naive”

You spend the rest of the night huddled up to his furnace like body cracking jokes about pogues and kooks alike

Surprisingly you’re back at the golf course 3 days later. This time donning a shorter navy blue skort and a gray polo. You request explicitly for Jj to be your caddy

You had convinced your dad to let you go alone.

You flirt with him the whole time he’s driving you around the course. Purposefully grabbing his hand when he hands you a club. Resting your hand on his thigh as he drives. Readjusting the company hat he’s wearing. He may have cute hair but he can’t hide his cute face with it.

When you're in a secluded part of the course, you make out against the golf cart for a few minutes. Having accidentally hit into some surrounding woods

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

A special sort of craving 1

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Lloyd Hansen

Summary: A stranger appears at your cafe and leaves you unsettled.

Part of the Backwood AU

Note: I found this in my docs and then I was like this could be an AU and people will hate me but here we are. I am heavily considering adding at least one other character to the AU bc I have an idea I don't think i'll ever get to full length with.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

He doesn’t belong. Not in this sleepy village. You can tell by the ring on his pinky, a golden signet that boasts of wealth not known to the farmers and lumberers of the desolate locale. His cheeks are red as if he didn’t expect the crisp autumn bite, though his jacket is unzipped to his chest, revealing a golf shirt with some designer logo sewn into the collar.

He tilts his head as he considers the glass display with shelves of bite-sized tarts and fragrant pies. You approach the other side, standing on tiptoes to see over it. His eyes slowly rise with your movement, a dimple in his cheek of amusement. You skirt around to the side of the display and lean over the lower counter so he can see you.

“Hello, you looking for something in particular?” you ask.

“Something sweet,” he answers, his crooked grin lingers as he lets his gaze wander back to the pies, “cherry… it’s been a while since I had a nice, juicy cherry pie.”

He licks his lips with the last word, reaching up to brush his fingertips over his bristly mustache. Your smile threatens to falter but you keep it on. He definitely isn’t from around here. Not with his accent or the hair slicked back so neatly.

“You want a slice?” you ask brightly. “Two bucks for a slice, twelve for the whole thing.”

“Hmm?” he raises a brow and sidles over to stand across from you.

“The pie,” you say as he puts a hand on the counter, leaning in as his other rests on his hip, “did you want some?”

His eyes fall down to the top of your apron, the red and white checker distracting him as you mindlessly flick the frill around the skirt. His smirk blooms fully and he stands straight.

“Wouldn’t mind a slice… of the pie,” he says as if it’s some joke. You don’t get it.

“Sure,” you say as you go behind the display and take out the cherry pie. You take it to the metal table behind you as you hear him, sense him looming along the counter. “You want anything to drink, sir? Some milk? Tea? Coffee? We do a combo for three-fifty.”

“Mm-mm-mm, a nice glass of milk would go nice with the pie,” he purrs, “they usually got you working all alone, sweetness?”

You look over your shoulder as you shovel a slice onto a plate, little flowers painted around the waffled trim.

“It’s my shop,” you say as you take the dish and grab a fork from the tray. You place it beside the till and type in the total, “cash or card, sir?”

“You own all this?” he leans his elbows on the counter, bent at the waist as he looks up at you.

“Sir,” you nod. 

“Card,” he stands and stretches his arms over him before he drops his hands, poking his fingers in his back pocket.

“I’ll get that milk,” you say as he swipes his card, “and I’ll bring this over to you if you wanna sit.”

“Ah, table service, I like it,” he says as the machine chirps and accepts his payment, “you country folk are all so… nice, aren’t you?”

“Suppose,” you say as you open the fridge and take out a small carton.

You glance over as he tucks away his wallet. He winks and walks away. He drapes his jacket over the chair by the window as you grab a glass and hurry over to the counter. You place the glass and carton on his table as he sits. You go back to the counter and bring him the pie.

“You visiting someone?” you ask curiously.

He looks at you pointedly. You hesitate. You forget that the city slickers don’t like questions, but everyone in the village knows each other, so your habit has you careless.

“Bought some house called ‘The Grove’,” he answers as he pushes the fork through the braided crust, “apparently it’s a big deal.”

“The Grove?” you can’t help your surprise, “wow.”

He scoffs, hardly amused, and slides the fork into his mouth, sucking off the pie as he watches you. He chews and swallows slowly as he hovers the silver over the oozing pie.

“You know it?”

“It’s pretty far out,” you say, “but yeah, everyone knows The Grove.”

“Sure,” he pokes a cherry so the juice leaks out, “this is good pie. You make all these?”

“It’s my recipe, but I think Melinda did that one.”

“Don’t get good home cooking like this in the city,” he plops the cherry in his mouth and his jaw tenses with the tartness, he hums in satisfaction. He looks you up and down once more, “don’t get that personal touch.”

“I’m glad you like it, I’ll let Melinda know,” you push your hands into the large pockets of your apron, a movement that further catches his attention.

“Sounds good, cupcake,” he opens the carton and pours the milk into the glass, “you do delivery?”

“Sundays,” you answer, “not that we get many requests but…”

“Personal deliveries,” he insists, “like you said, house is far away, and I’m new in town. Wouldn’t mind a familiar face and a nice pie.”

You rub your neck, “well I don’t usually do the deliveries.”

“Melinda?” he prompts.

“No, Terry takes them with the lumber.”

“Mm,” he frowns, “right… guess I’ll just make the trip in.”

“Okay,” you nod, “let me know if ya need anything else.”

“Oh, I definitely will,” he slithers as you slowly turn away.

You feel him watching you as you try to hide behind the counter. You take a cloth and the cleaner and start wiping down the back of the display. You hear the clink of his fork against the plate.

City people are always a bit odd, but he gives you a bad feeling.

[rafesgoldrings]

Oh girl my request rn is more poly rafe kelce and topper! Whether it be fluff or some spicy spicy smut. Like their day to day life or how they take turns taking her out on dates and then all come back and treat her good 🥵

They’re backkkk🤭 I honestly missed them sm and had so much fun writing for them. I hope you guys enjoy it🫶🏻

Warnings: not proof read, light degradation, Rafe calls reader a pretty bitch one time, reader is called a slut like twice

So your day to day life is actually fairly normal, there’s still lots of flirting and subtle touches but for the most part you guys just hang out. You’ll go shopping or go with them to the gym, go out on the boat before grabbing dinner, hang out and watch a movie or attempt to play video games with them (which always ends in a (“Oh my god Y/N just put the controller down and come sit”), nothing too crazy. But the dates? The dates are a complete different story.

They have a schedule, it was the only way to ensure that each of them were getting equal alone time with you to avoid jealousy and fights. It usually stayed pretty consistent but did change occasionally if one of your boys has a special request or something happened. Monday is Toppers day, Wednesday is Kelces, and Friday is Rafes, the ones between that were ones for you to have the day to yourself or for you all to hang out as a group.

Topper usually kept it pretty casual, sweet, but casual with something like a picnic or lunch at the country club. Beach dates were your favorite, just enjoying the sounds of the waves crashing against the shore while you rested in the others arms, the soft breeze caressing your skin. He also liked to go shopping for things, clothes, jewelry, books, art supplies, whatever you had an interest in that day, he obviously would pay for it all. Even telling you not to bring any money because ‘pretty girls don’t pay for themselves’. Boat dates are another common thing for the two of you, he’d bring your favorite blanket and sweater of his with him for when you inevitably got cold once the sun started to set. He’d of course go somewhere secluded so he could pull your bikini off and fuck you while the sun hit you, the possibility of getting caught make it so much hotter than normal.

Kelce was more of the sporty/stay in date type. He loved to take you golfing, even if all you did was look pretty and tease him by bending over in the short little skirt he bought you, and then treat you to a nice candlelit dinner. Almost always preferred it near the water too, said it was more romantic when your skin was illuminated by the soft flame and it was just the two of you and the soft waves. But on days he didn’t feel like going out, he’d set up a blanket fort in the living room stocked with ALL of your favorite snacks and drinks. He’d put the little fairy lights inside of it like the one he remembered you showing him a while ago, put an air mattress inside with tons of pillows and soft blankets, light up your favorite scented candle, make sure it was as romantic and cozy as possible. He’d put on some of your favorite movies or attempt to teach you to play the games he liked, but it almost always ended with your clothes scattered on the floor. Waking up the next morning with your limbs intertwined and bare skin sticking to each other from the small layer of sweat that formed.

Rafe, as we all expected, is the fancy one. He’s buying you dresses to match his suit, diamond earrings, necklaces, rings, bracelets, shoes, just making sure you’re taken care of before the date even happens. He’d take you to the nicest restaurants, go on shopping sprees where you picked out whatever you wanted (yes that includes any lingerie shops you stumble across), go out on the yacht and stop at the local yacht club for dinner, even fly you out in the private jet somewhere for the day. He had the money and he would happily spend it all on you if it made you happy. He rarely ever stayed in on his nights unless you asked, if he did there wasn’t much going on other than him making it his goal to fuck you on every surface in the house. He was always horny around you, you were just so pretty and got his cock hard immediately. Half the time he couldn’t even wait until you were home before he was pulling his range rover to he side of the road and fucking you in the backseat, or over the hood of it, or making you ride him in the drivers sit so your tits were bouncing in his face.

They all took care of you in their own way, sexually and non sexually, but together? Together the pleasure tripled, every inch of your skin being touched, your brain completely shut off from their hands on you and their cocks burying themselves in your pretty holes. Rafe usually teasing you for it with a little degrading comment like ‘pretty bitch can’t even concentrate on anything but being a slut’. Top usually went for a mix of the two, he was usually the one teasing you while also encouraging you to keep going ‘Such a desperate slut for us huh baby? But you’re doing so good, so pretty too, just a little more pretty girl’. Kelce was almost always the one giving you praise unless he was pissed or felt like he had something to prove, ‘God princess, so pretty. This pussy is so pretty too, doing so so good. I know it hurts but you can do it, you’re made for us so I know you can baby. That’s it, good girl baby’.

The mix of praise and degradation from each one making your head spin and bringing you closer to your orgasm until you snapped, making a giant mess all over whoever was inside you at the time. Nipples being pulled and pinched and sucked, clit being spit on and rubbed until you were crying out that it was too much, each one taking a turn tasting you and trying to push their cum inside you deeper than the last. It was like their version of a group date, who could make you feel the best, who could cum the most, who made you cum the most. It was your thing and none of you would change that, you were theirs and they were yours.

Either way, you’d never go a day without being taken care of and spoiled. Even without the physical contact your phone would be blowing up with texts from each of them. Complements, pet names, voice messages, pictures, anything you could think of they were doing to ensure you were thinking about them always and knew they were thinking about you. Honestly convinced they have a separate group chat just to gush about you outside of the normal one where they try to one up each other

[stars-and-the-min]

☆ the wrong way to hard launch (10) | OP81

summary : oscar's girlfriend is a walking pr problem for literally everyone (including herself) social media au

pairing : oscar piastri x zhou!fem!singer!oc

a/n the calm before the storm?

masterlist | last part | part 10 | next part

INSTAGRAM

mclaren Shanghai International Circuit

54,829 likes

mclaren Looks like a race day to me 🤔 tagged: oscarpiastri and landonorris

pi4str1 good luck papaya fam 🧡🧡🧡

michelle.ar manifesting double podiums again

jimpxcs Let's go boys 🔥

MESSAGES

from the phone of selina bui

TWITTER

↳ oscalina real ?! @ emptyginbottles · 2h WELCOME BACK LINA F1 LIVE TWEETS ↳ piaa⁸¹ @papayaeightyone · 1h she's so real for these reactions honestly 😭

INSTAGRAM

lilymhe just posted to their story

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🕯️manifesting EB3 🕯️@ linabelles · 45m stfu i'd know that silhouette anywhere. lily muni he at shenzhen n3??? ↳ abby <3 @devilvows · 39m not just lily! alex, logan and oscar were also spotted in the venue!!

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oscarpiastri Some moments off-track

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[sarnai4]

Expectation Subversion

Penguins of Madagascar has some of my favorite examples of subverting expectations for personalities. They also gave me something that I try to use when creating my own characters. It seems like the characters can easily fit into a one-dimensional stereotype, but then there's more. Let's start off with Rico.

At first glance, Rico is just a loose cannon. In lesser shows, he might have been. After all, he just needs to be the silly one who spits up weapons and sure, he is, but that's not all. Rico is also fiercely loyal. He's the same one who was terrified of a "haunted" car and still braved it head-on when it had hurt Skipper. Comically enough, he can just as easily turn on the others when Ms. Perky wants him to do something else (cue Rico attacking them because of that darn voice box). An underrated skill of Rico's is how resourceful he is. He always knows exactly what weapon is necessary for the moment. With these skills, his loyalty, and his fun/unhinged flair, he really comes to life as a character.

Private is seemingly just the nice guy of the group. He's the young one who's innocent. Again, this is a part of him. He is very nice, not wanting to hurt anyone's feelings like when he was supposed to win a rude-off against Clemson. He's also pretty naive with a lot of things, being unsuspecting about Hans actually being bad. Despite this, there's more to Private than niceness. He's got the most common sense of the group, being the only one to see that grabbing the plant needed to save Maurice's life would be easier than continuing to use the jaws of life AND realizing how unlikely it was that Santa was spending Christmas Eve in a random building. I also love how he's got a backstory of being this almost ruthless mini golf player. His underrated skill is that he's the second best fighter of the group. Solely looking at fin-to-fin combat, Private is the only one who's been on par with Skipper.

Kowalski could have just been the "science nerd." He definitely has this as a core part of him, but he's also such a drama queen. I love it. He's the poster boy for book smarts because this penguin has a score of 0 for practical reasoning. Heck, he had to figure out which instincts to use. His struggles with this leads to him continuously making inventions that almost kill everybody. Kowalski is always an invention away from turning into a mad scientist. I'm convinced this actually has happened before and then he just snaps back to his senses (thinking about times like Jiggles and more). Something else which adds an interesting layer to him is how much he wants to be in charge. He's technically the second-in-command and has made it clear that he'd like to replace Skipper when the time comes. "Kowalski's log...too soon?"

Skipper seems like he's just the tough boss. In a comedy like this, he easily could've been an incompetent leader. Rather than that, he's honestly a very good leader who is clever with his plans. Seriously, his escape plans shown in Pets Peeved and more episodes really demonstrate how thoroughly he can think out a strategy even when he's on the spot. Along with this, Skipper tries to act hard and rough, but he makes it clear that he cares about his team more than anything. He even faced his fear of needles (this show singlehandedly taught me what trypanophobia was) for Private when he learned that the soldier would've been hurt otherwise. It even stretches beyond them. Skipper really cares about everyone in the zoo, going so far as to look out for Julien who is probably one of his least favorite zoo mates. I also really like how much being a leader means to Skipper. When he thought he couldn't be in charge anymore, he was having a meltdown. He even put Private as leader just so that he could make it clear who actually deserves the position. It's so petty, that it's almost beautiful.

[mokulule]

The Number You Have Called Cannot Be Reached 6

Part 1|Part 2|Part 3|Part 4|Part 5

Ship: Dead on Main (Danny/Jason) Warnings: angst/depression and canon typical violence

Bruce sighed, absently feeling the air on his hands folded in front of his face. He stared unseeingly ahead. His frowned deeply, at a loss of what to do. Worry picked at his self control.

Something was up with Jason. Ever since the other night, something had happened between the thief and Jason. It had left him unsettled and off balance, that much was obvious. They’d all been able to see it.

Now, today, Jason had lost control. He’d been agitated of course, but Bruce hadn’t expected the outburst. Jason was usually good at managing his anger these days, at least in the family. He didn’t get physical with them anymore in anger. Except today Jason had suddenly pulled him up by the shirt, and Bruce had honestly expected him to punch him. Jason had shaken it off, but then he’d fled.

The urge to move, to do something, itched at him. He wanted to get answers, but confronting Jason was out of the question. Their truce was fragile, and it seemed every time he spoke to Jason he said the wrong thing. He didn’t know what to do except control the urge to go after his son. He couldn’t fight his demons for him. He could only try not to make it worse.

And so he sat there, staring, unseeing.

Dick’s footsteps, came down the stairs, easily recognizable: light and almost dancing to a rhythm only he could hear, skipping a step every now and then.

“Hey B, thought you were going golfing with the mayor, keeping up the old appearances and all that” he greeted brightly, as ever immune to Bruce’s mood. Or maybe Alfred sent him down to deal with him, that was also an option.

“Oh I love these,” Dick reached forward over Bruce’s shoulder to grab a protein bar from the backpack. He opened it and started to eat it without hesitation.

“Dick,” Bruce sighed, “this is evidence.”

Dick snorted and leaned on the console so he could look at Bruce. “You’re serious.”

Bruce raised an eyebrow.

Dick snorted again, of course Bruce was serious, then he pulled the backpack over and started rooting through it. Much to Bruce’s exasperation he opened another protein bar.

“Dick, they could be drugged.”

“As if you’d have let me take the first one if that was the case,” Dick mumbled around the mouthful of granola. Bruce mentally conceded the point.

“Anyways,” Dick swallowed and continued, reading the name tag on the inside of the backpack, “Danny Fenton, who’s that?”

Bruce sighed.

“The thief.”

“The Ghost!?” Dick looked up in excitement, “so we have a name now?”

“Presumably, it may not originally have been his backpack.”

“True, doesn’t help much either does it? Danny is very common and Fenton may not be Johnson, but it’s not exactly unique.”

“I haven’t looked it up yet.”

Dick narrowed his eyes.

“This has anything to do with why you’re brooding?”

Silence stretched between them, but Dick could be surprisingly patient when he wanted to. There was no point in dragging things out, it wasn’t a secret, Dick could easily find out through the surveillance if he wanted, Bruce would rather he didn’t.

“Jason was the one who delivered the backpack.”

“Ah.” There was the worried frown Bruce would have liked to avoid. He leaned down a bit to better face Bruce.

“You had a fight?” The question was posed carefully, softly, not betraying any inkling what he thought of that, in a way to gently pry the answer from Bruce, but Bruce knew his eldest son well enough to know he was already mentally running damage control options. That was Dick, always trying to keep their family together tooth and nail. There was a soft pang of appreciation in his chest he couldn’t articulate, instead he focused on the problem at hand.

“He’s convinced the thief needs help, I don’t actually disagree.”

Dick sat back in realization, his eyes flickered to the backpack and its sorry spoils.

“But he could still be working for someone,” Dick recited with a sigh, it was an old lesson. One he knew Jason wouldn’t have appreciated, not if he felt Bruce was dismissing his concerns. “B.”

“I know.”

Do you? Dick’s eyebrows asked, but he had the grace not to actually say it. He clapped Bruce on the shoulder instead, squeezing slightly.

“He’ll warm back up.”

“You think so?” He asked unable to look up at Dick.

“Hey,” Dick said brightly in a way that naturally drew attention to him, “we’ve come back from worse.” And there was that bright smile and that pang of appreciation was back, along with another warm feeling in his chest: hope.

“Well, I gotta get going, I’ve got work tomorrow. Just gotta grab a few more of these.”

And the feeling was gone.

“Dick.”

“We shouldn’t waste perfectly good food, B, also they’re W-Mark exclusives, they don’t have them in Blüdhaven.” He grinned, pockets stuffed with contraband. Invariably reminding Bruce of a younger version with pockets full of candy he’d been denied. Brat already knew he had won. Bruce waved him off with a sigh.

Dick practically skipped towards the stairs. Then he paused.

“Oh and B, if I was you, I’d check the phone at the bottom of the bag. It’s not a brand I recognize.”

With that he was off.

Bruce stared after him. Pride warred with annoyance. He’d been so absorbed in his thoughts he hadn’t even noticed Dick checking out the bag more thoroughly than the cursory look he himself had done when Jason had handed it to him.

He grabbed the bag and rooted around a bit, and just as Dick had said, there was a phone.

He pulled it out, and turned it over in his hands. It was made from dark blue plastic. The logo on the back, a stylized V in front of a globe, wasn’t one he recognized. It looked old and scuffed, had actual buttons and a jarringly small screen when you were used to modern smartphones.

It was also out of power.

With how old it looked, it was unlikely cordless charging was an option. He looked at the bottom edge where there was an actual mini headphone jack, along with what he assumed was the charging port - it wasn’t a type he recognized.

He frowned and got up. He wouldn’t be too late for his meeting with the mayor if he left now, not something he couldn’t brush off as eccentric forgetfulness at least.

He could drop the phone off at Tim’s on the way. Tim would get the phone working one way or another.

Oo o oO

Danny stayed underneath the pavement long after the not-ghost had left. The feeling of almost giving in was a crawling like ants underneath his skin. The threat of almost capture was like a noose around his neck - if they captured him, if they managed to contain him, he would never get home.

Eventually the bone deep tiredness of using his powers too much hit him, and he dragged himself back to his haunt, invisibly and intangibly, because he’d had much too much excitement today. He was raw and empty inside when he dropped onto his blanket pile and rolled up. He would get food some other day. Never mind that he was completely out. It wouldn’t end his existence, just weaken him. Ghosts at the core ran on willpower, and Danny wanted to go home.

A small squeak and rustle, had him opening his eyes a crack and turning his head to look to the far side of the room. There the rat was going his trash, the packaging probably still smelled like food.

He huffed and closed his eyes again. If he got truly desperate he could always eat the rat - It wouldn’t be the worst thing he’d eaten.

next

Masterpost for subscription

Sorry, it's not the longest part this time, but we got to appreciate a few other characters, yay! Hope you enjoyed, cause Danny sure isn't enjoying himself.

[formula-hamilton]

Little White Lie | Lewis Hamilton x reader

Summary: On your first date with Lewis you told him a small lie that you soon came to regret. Word count: 1.7k Warnings: None I think? Just an excessive amount of sport + fluff. A/n: Just a small one shot based on an idea I had after watching Lewis’ latest running story on instagram.

--

It started as an innocent lie. Just a small fabrication to make yourself appear more appealing. In hindsight, it was completely unnecessary, but you wanted to impress him. Find common ground and then he’d hopefully find you worthy of his time. Sadly, you didn’t realize just how unnecessary the lie was until it all became too much.

It was on your first date. Lewis had picked you up at your flat and taken you to a small Indian restaurant in London. A very intimate place, quite fitting for a romantic dinner for two people getting to know each other. As the waiter showed you your table, Lewis held his hand on the bottom of your back, gently following you. And as the true gentleman you had expected him to be, he pulled your chair out before sitting across from you. The conversation was a little careful in the beginning, both being nervous and a tad shy. You couldn’t help feeling a bit intimidated by him, afraid of saying the wrong thing. But as you shared a bottle of wine, your nervous demeanor slowly slipped away as the conversations got deeper and you both felt a connection growing. You remember thinking it at least felt like a third date.

Of course you touched the subject of his job and his journey in the sport. This lead to talk of his love of racing and sports in general and of course you discovered just how much he loved being active. It shouldn’t have surprised you, him being a professional athlete and everything, but still it blew your mind just how much he loved doing sports and running. That’s how you found yourself a little overwhelmed and frankly quite unable to relate. But you were scared. You were so infatuated by him that you felt scared he would find you less interesting or less compatible, and that’s when the words slipped out of your mouth before you had a chance to think them through.

“I love doing sports as well!” You found yourself gushing and before you could stop yourself you talked him through just how much of an active person you were. Truthfully you hadn’t done any serious sports since your time at university, but that didn’t sound quite as good.

--

This lie of course led to Lewis suggesting more active activates for your future dates. And unfortunately it wasn’t the sexy kind. On your fourth date he invited you to play tennis with his friend and his girlfriend. You went shopping and bought the nicest tennis fit you could find, hoping it would keep him distracted and unaware of your lack of fitness. Luckily for you, Lewis was such a good player that he didn’t notice how much you lacked in the skills department. Your team easily won and that was definitely no thanks to you. After the game Lewis slept over at your place for the first time and you could finally be physical in a way that left you way more satisfied than any sport could ever do.

Clearly Lewis found the tennis game so successful that he for the next date invited you golfing. This time you were honest with him and told him you hadn’t tried golf before. You simply couldn’t see how you could fake it as well as the tennis match. Fortunately for you, Lewis took it upon himself to teach you and you really didn’t mind him wrapping his arms around you when you had to swing.

Two hours of playing in the scorching sun and you were completely exhausted. You were sweating like crazy and your body ached in ways it had never done before. You had no idea just how physical draining golf would be and you honestly wanted to call the quits on your whole untruthfulness. As you were standing there, being a little dramatic, thinking you were possible having the worst time of your life, you complemented just how you would confess. Before you got a chance to put your thoughts into action, Lewis put his arm around you, grinning.

“I’m so happy that we can do things like these together. I think it’s such a great way to get to know each other. Much more interesting than dinner and a movie,” he said with the sweetest smile on his lips, eyes meeting yours. That’s when you saw just how much he appreciated these dates and you found yourself melting. How could you ever let him down? How could you ever tell him that dinner and a movie was your idea of a perfect date?

Therefore you went on with the golfing and hid just how difficult you found the whole situation. Naturally, you loved the time spend with Lewis. Just as you had known since the first date, you definitely had a deeper connection with him and there was no doubt in your mind that you could see this go somewhere. And even though you were really pushed out of your comfort zone, the time spend with him was much cherished.

For your next date you were quick to beat Lewis to it. This time you invited him to an art exhibition hosted by one of your old friends. It wouldn’t require quite as much energy and you really felt a need for something that wasn’t as physically draining.

The art exhibition was followed with numerous dinners, but just as many tennis matches, golf dates, cycling and your least favorite of them all: running. At least you could carry a conversation with the other sports, but that was simply impossible with running. It was always 45 minutes of pure hell each time. It got a little better with time, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to enjoy it. But you must take the bitter with the sweet and boy was everything else with Lewis sweet.

--

As the months had passed, your feelings for each other only grew. He was everything you were looking for in a man so when he asked you to be his girlfriend there was only one answer on your mind. You knew you were being silly, but as the months passed, you also grew scared of what Lewis’ reaction would be if he found out just how much you dreaded your active dates. First of all you knew it was wrong to have lied in the first place, and even more wrong to have kept it going for as long as you had. Secondly, such a big part of the time you spent together involved doing sports and quite frankly you were scared he would lose interest in you if you lost this common interest.

Once again Lewis and you found yourself on one of your runs. This time in Monaco where he had invited you for a weekend trip. Today you were struggling more than usual, the warm weather was making the whole experience very difficult for you. Your lungs were burning like never before and you felt absolutely disgusting being drenched in sweat. It was only 9 am and you would give anything to just be able to sleep in with Lewis for once instead of being out and about on your small holiday.

Just as you were trying to keep up with Lewis’ pace, you found yourself cursing your past self for even coming up with such a stupid lie just to impress someone. Even if it was Lewis Hamilton. Being completely caught up in your own thoughts, you didn’t watch your step and suddenly you felt yourself tripping on rock on the side of the trail. Your arms saved you from landing face down on the ground, but your ankle wasn’t as lucky. It hurt like hell and there was no doubt in your mind that it was strained. You knew the pain from when you strained it playing football when you were 14 years old.

“Shit, are you okay love?” Lewis rushed over and bend down to put his arm around you, worry filling his eyes.

“No!” You felt tears rushing to your eyes. Both from the pain and all the pent up frustrations. “Do I look alright? I almost fell face down on the ground and I’m pretty sure my ankle is sprained. And it’s all just because of a man! I can’t do this anymore Lewis.”

Lewis stared at you with wide eyes, looking taken aback by your words. As you uttered your last words his face dropped and sadness filled his eyes. “Do what? What do you mean? Do us?” he frantically asked you.

“No, god no, not us!” You rushed out, feeling the first tears escaping your eyes. The dam had broken and the words would not stop leaving your mouth. “I can’t do all of this running anymore. Or tennis or golf or cycling or god knows what sport. I simply can’t do it. I’m not that type of person, I would much rather just stay in and relax with you baby. Or go for dinner or the museum or a nice walk.”

“I thought you loved doing these things?” Lewis frowned at you, small pout on his lips as he looked confused by your words.

“I don’t. I’m so sorry Lewis, I lied. I wanted you to like me and I wanted to find something we had in common so you would want to keep seeing me. And then it just kept going and I didn’t know how to tell you. You were so happy that we did these things together and I didn’t want to disappoint you,” you told him with tears streaming down your face. “I understand if this means you can’t trust me. I really am so sorry I took it so far.” As you finished talking you buried you head in your hands, ashamed to look at him.  

“Baby. Baby, listen to me. I don’t care what we do. I don’t care if we lay in bed all day or if we run a marathon or if we go shopping or whatever. I just wanna spend time with you,” Lewis told you while brushing your hair with his fingers.

“Please don’t let me run a marathon,” you whispered, finally meeting his eyes. Lewis giggled and held both his hands to your face, wiping your tears away.

“I promise I won’t,” he smiled at you, giving you a small kiss on your forehead before moving to your lips. “Come on darling, let’s get you home and cleaned up. Then we’ll just watch movies all day and I’ll cook for you.”

[eveningstruggle]

to build a bower

dramione, rated t, 8.7k

She has a cat, the same ugly orange thing that she’d had at Hogwarts. She lives in a flat in Clapham Common, has a bird-feeder outside her kitchen window, and is engaged in a war of attrition with the squirrels who believe they are entitled to her Songbird’s Favourite Patio Mix. She wears glasses most days, but contact lenses when she has an important meeting. She loves hazelnut and is allergic to kiwi. She finds Ted’s golf stories tedious.

And now he can add to the Granger, Hermione entry that a piece of pale mint green glass, tossed and tumbled through a thousand ocean waves, is enough to make her stop at his desk and speak to him.

--

or: Draco stumbles across a surprising way to get Hermione’s attention.

read it on ao3